Where Water Meets Earth
by nesza
Summary: One's fuming mad, the other is just a pain in the ass. Six weeks can be an awfully long time. Perhaps too long for sanity, but never too short for love. SeiferQuistis. I have finally updated. Chapter 7 now up!
1. Haunting

**Disclaimer:** Don't own squaresoft or ff8. If I did, I wouldn't be writing a fanfic, I'd be out shopping my heart out.

**Chapter 1: Haunting**

**_Life is only worth living when you find someone worth dying for._**

* * *

He looked up facing the clear blue that was the sky. If he squinted he could see lines of white light, forming a prism in every intersection. It was a warm day. He closed his eyes to feel the sun on his face and unconsciously, had lifted his arms and stretched it to both sides. Strange, his chest didn't feel heavy. He took a deep breath. The air was humid, but light. Smells like the sea, he thought.

Then the waves came crashing to the shore and he felt its light impact on his legs. Suddenly, he heard the soothing sound of the sea, the sound he had been oblivious to, just a second ago. He looked down slowly to see the water crashing towards his boots and then rushing away again, just like a child running away after doing a mischief. The tip of his trench coat was already drenched and it clung to his legs hungrily. He lifted his foot and watched as a wave swallowed his footprint.

_Funny_, he thought. He had never felt so peaceful before.

His lips curved into a smile, perhaps the first smile he had in years. The beach was bringing back memories. Memories of lazy afternoons spent collecting seashells, or rather holding the basket while his sisters collected seashells.The sea reminded him of the warm, fuzzy feeling of lying on the sand and feeling the white beads between his toes. Of swimming far, far away and coming home to a warm bowl of soup. His childhood. So long ago. The one that had been stolen off him…yet the same one he threw away. The one he threw away for worthless dreams and wicked short-term satisfaction.

"Seifer!"

A familiar voice.

"Seifer. What ya doin?"

Raijin.

He turned to look at his friend with a grin on his face. As expected, Fujin was with him. They ran towards him. Raijin, the big, bulky man that he is came rushing forward ever so clumsily that he knocked Seifer down and sent him flat on his butt in the water.

"IDIOT!" Fujin exclaimed giving Raijin a wallop in the head.

"Sorry, man! Didn't mean to do it, ya know?" Raijin helped him up with one hand while rubbing the sore spot on his head with the other.

This would be the moment Seifer would go berserk but for some strange reason, he did not. The day was too good to ruin. There was something about this instance that kept him calm. There was something about this scene that was terribly wrong.

"What took ya so long?" Raijin asked. "She's been waiting for you, ya know?"

"She?" a knot formed itself on his forehead. He lifted his gaze from the two and it fell on a certain small hut just a stretch of sand away. _She_ was there. She was waiting for him beyond those white curtains, smiling for him. Strangely, his heart started to pound furiously in his chest.

He smiled as if he knew exactly what he was smiling about. He took a step forward and was stopped by a sharp pain in his chest. His forehead creased and he paused for a second with wonder. He quickly ignored it and moved his foot once more. With one step he felt a sharp pain in his chest and heard the ringing in his ears.

Suddenly, he was back in the dark, smelly cellar he had been dragged into. The stench of blood and sweat was blunting his already dull senses. The light bulb was swinging with a galling screeching sound.

"Glad you're back, sleeping beauty," he heard a hoarse voice. His head was whirling, his body ached all over, his vision was a blur. Drops of dark red trickled down his forehead saturating itself between his lashes, making it very hard to see yet painful to close his eyes. His head was pulled up by a yank on his hair, a face hovered over him.

He felt another sharp pain on his chest. That ought to break a rib or two. He didn't know that his body had **that** many a part to hurt and break. He was trying his best to adapt his body to the excruciating pain.

Then he heard them.

The laughter and the cries, it echoed throughout the room. Had his hands been free, he would have covered his ears. The mockery, the taunts. Nothing he's not used to, really, but somehow after they had rendered him unconscious for the second time, he'd been hearing voices. Familiar voices. Maybe one was even his own. The hatred, the passion was enough for his own undoing.

His crimes of three years past was haunting him again. The voices, the pleading, the cries. He had murdered them, he had laughed at their pain. He'd taken pleasure in their deaths. He was merciless, he muffled the cries, he had slaughtered them slowly and viciously. Now they're back, back to haunt him.

They were so many. Too many. He had covered his hands with their blood. Each and every one of them. They were rummaging through his brain. They had digged and buried themselves deep. He couldn't get them out. He can never rid himself of them. They're inside of him. They'd never go away.

He had no wings, yet he had dreamed and had fallen. They were there to remind him of how high he climbed and how hard he fell. Of how painful it was to fall and swim in the infinite sea of failure. To swallow and choke on your own pride. To be long dead though your body still walks the earth.

Somehow, between the throbbing pain in his body and the haunting voices in his head he had screamed. He had screamed loud and wild, and furious. He had screamed till he can no longer scream. Until nature would no longer permit him.

But they're still there.

Still.

"We're gonna show you just what you deserve, you son of a bitch!" he heard before his vision went black again and his senses went numb.

* * *

She shifted on her seat. The cold metal of the chair stinging her skin through her clothes. They never make the chairs comfortable enough. She sighed. She will never get used to the feel of prison. She will never get used to the feeling of being watched. There were about half a dozen men on guard and about half the number of security cameras installed in the room. Her sweaty palms were placed on the metal table. 

How strange Cid and Squall are. They give her the most absurd of assignments. She could be in a classroom right now, teaching the next military geniuses about draw points and combat strategies but they wanted her to spend the afternoon visiting the most vicious of criminals.

"Prisoner 021-032072: Almasy, Seifer" a loud voice thundered throughout the room, it was enough to make her ears ring. It woke her from her stupor. Then the faint sound of metal being lifted was heard, followed by the all too familiar sound of an automatic door opening.

"Nice to see you again, instructor," Seifer beamed upon seeing her. He walked in with two guards at his heel. With a loud thud, Seifer found himself facing sideways, his chest pressed to the cool metal of the table, the guards carelessly taking his handcuffs off.

She found herself standing up in an instant, hands slamming on the table, "that's a direct violation of —"

"Geez, cool it, miss. We're not inside your classroom here," one of the guards said, a knowing smile on his face. It wasn't actually a secret that Quistis Trepe, heroine, was a failed instructor. She unconsciously shook her head as she slowly sat down again.

Seifer examined his bruised wrists before he sat down across Quistis, a thin layer of glass with a small round hole separating them. "You better tell Puberty Boy to start spending money on me, a high profile criminal and all you can give me are danged lousy cuffs. Where's the Estharian technology in that? I'm hurt, instructor."

What was he looking for? An explosive chip installed in the brain? "For you, cuffs will do."

"Ouch." He said, holding a hand to his chest.

"Anyway…" she sighed. "I did not come here for this."

"Here to say you miss me?" he asked, a simper graced his features.

"Keep the jokes coming, Almasy, these might as well be the last ones."

"I heard that three years ago…I guess he was wrong. Look at me, still very much alive and kicking," he opened his arms and raised it a bit.

"Kicking?" she asked, she raised an eyebrow. "I'm not so sure about that."

Her comment was purposely ignored. "So, how's it going, instructor. Finally won Puberty Boy's heart?" he chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm being silly. I always forget about him and my girl, Rinoa. Squall had always liked to pick after my crumbs."

"Excuse me?" she asked, a mixture of contempt and disbelief in her voice.

"I can still remember her, clinging to me as if the loss of contact would end her very dear life…" he said. "But then again, why am I talking to you about it? Puberty Boy would be a much better audience."

She rolled her eyes and did not answer back. She stared blankly at the glass. He stared back, the smirk on his face fading. He was amazed at how things could change and not change in three years. She had cut her hair, the once golden silk that reached to her mid-back, the one that she refuses to let down, now drops just short of her shoulders. She was still pale, ghostly pale. Still the sun never had the chance to feast its rays on her skin long enough. A stern pout still marked her lips and her eyes, still of cold, icy blue. Somehow though, she looked a lot more tired now. The cold steel in her eyes is somehow making way for another emotion, an emotion he could only attribute to sorrow, to utter sadness.

"The police did that, didn't they?" she asked after a while, regarding his bruised face and swollen eyes and upon making sure that her silence had discouraged him from coming up with another foolish joke. He can hardly be recognized from the cuts and bruises that now displayed themselves proudly on his face. Some were still fresh, some were probably a week old or more.

Guilt wasn't enough; they had to add physical torture too.

"Not quite enough, is it? I tried to destroy the world after all," he answered.

"You could file a complaint. They're not—"

"Save it, Trepe. This isn't one of those made-up scenarios you're so fond of discussing. This is the real world."

"I know," she said in almost a whisper.

"Look, it's not that I don't want to see you. The sight of a woman is a comely change from those of metal cells and freakin' ugly guards. But, just tell me what the hell you're here for to get this done and over with," Seifer said rather bored.

She swallowed hard. How could she say her purpose without squirming and he taking her seriously. She had played this scenario in her head over and over again, each one ending with him laughing at her hysterically and her stalking out violently.

She let out a sigh. "A series of trials is scheduled to take place six weeks from now…I am to represent you in those trials." She said the last sentence in a breathless rush.

"They can't get me a lawyer now?" he chuckled softly. At least he asked before he laughed. That was good enough for her.

"No lawyer wants to take your case. They said it's…" Her voice faded. _Hopeless?_ Hopeless is an understatement. She was even surprised that they're holding a trial for him. But of course, the biggest surprise of all was when they decided to imprison him and punish him after three long years of showing no resistance, much less interest, to him. However she tried to see it, he's a dead man.

"So, they're sending you?" There was mockery in his voice.

"It's not like I want this," she said in her defense. "This is not the position I had been aspiring for, thank you very much."

"Seeing you fail as an instructor wasn't enough for them, they also want to see you fail as a makeshift lawyer. Good people…the side you've been working for."

Her hands immediately rolled into fists and a nerve twitched. "Don't talk like I'm the only failure in this room." Her voice became a bit louder.

He gave her a soft laugh. "Seriously, what would you gain? This is a hopeless case. What do they want a trial for? I'm going to die anyway. Ask them to do me and you a favor by sending me a firing squad tomorrow."

"This is your life Seifer…"

Concern? Was that concern in her voice? …Nah! The only person Ice Queen had ever been concerned for was Puberty boy. Only half a week in jail and he's already hallucinating. The lack of alcohol is surely taking its toll on him.

"I have never had a high regard for my life, instructor. You, of all people, would know that."

She was getting impatient. Seifer always had a way to make her feel guilty about everything. "We're not giving you a choice here."

"Never had it in my dreams…"

"I'm going," she cut her eyes at him.

He nodded. "Don't let me keep you."

She shook her head. She had waited longer than she had even talked to him. Not surprising, really. Seifer had always been difficult. Even if she had spent an entire hour with him the useful conversation would have only lasted five minutes. He had always liked to push her away, just like Squall. Only, they had different ways.

Her students…who would have thought she would have the privilege of teaching two war geniuses? Squall and Seifer. The commander and the knight. The fallen knight. He would have been a great commander too only if he wasn't on the wrong side, and well, the attitude problem needs some fixing first.

Whatever Seifer was or will be, she could never be sure. She could never judge something she never understood. He was a good fighter but not the best of students, that's all she knows. He was once a friend too. But then again, that was so long ago. Too long ago to even bother think about.

She stood up. "I'll be here tomorrow at 800 hours. I'm going to discuss with you the terms of your case, whether you like it or not." She said sternly before she walked away. The guard let her out and Seifer soon found his hands being cuffed again as he regarded her retreating form.

Whatever came to Hyne's mind to let this happen, he doesn't know…and probably wouldn't want to know. This might as well be a part of his much deserved punishment. However he liked to see it, they're both in deep shit.

* * *

This is my first fanfic…erm, not really. Rather, it's the first fic I'm uploading here in It's a little short and all. Anyway, read and review. Ack…if you're going to flame it, be a little gentle. The next chapter will be up shortly. 


	2. Prison Perfect

**Disclaimer:** Don't own squaresoft or ff8...but you already know that...

**Chapter 2: Prison Perfect**

_Basking in your victory,_

_Hollow and alone_

_To boast your bitter bragging rights to anyone who'll listen._

_While you're left with nothing tangible to gain_.

The Good Fight, Dashboard Confessional

* * *

"Do me a favor and shoot Squall, will ya?" Her voice was wearied.

Squall does the assigning and so far, she haven't been to any worthwhile missions. If she reached far back to her memories, she would recall her last mission being that to secure the shipment of arms to southern Trabia.

At first, she thought it was a wonderful mission, but that was before she read the specs. She was to board an enormous ship made almost entirely of steel with five built-in cannons, four semi-automatic gatling guns installed, lasers and thirty stand-ground and dangerously-armed soldiers. Not to mention that the council also had employed another ace soldier from Galbadia Garden to ensure the safety of the shipment. Paranoid was an understatement. Getting within the five mile radius was nothing but suicide. The only work she did in that mission, aside from the usual checking with the captain, was to babysit on a few young cadets. Not quite the usual babysitting expected from a mother, but it was babysitting by her standards. Needless to say, nothing happened in that mission to prove that the council was not being overprotective for its own good.

At times, she thought Squall didn't trust her enough to handle any quality mission. He might be doubting her skills or maybe he just wanted to get in her nerves. He always had a way of making her feel ignored, and the tons of paperwork were the physical embodiment of it.

Now that she had a mission, she was sent to aid Seifer, one crucial reason of her losing her instructor's license. Somehow they neglected the fact that being his ex-instructor, ex-friend, and ex-enemy was bound to give her some uneasy feelings.

Oh, she forgot, she's the ice queen.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

"Tempting, but I doubt I can get past Rinoa," William laughed over the speaker phone. He had taken time off his busy schedule to call her. "So how has it been?"

"Do I really need to answer that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she examined the papers in her hands.

She heard a low chuckle. "Sure you do. It can't be that bad."

She shook her head. "You don't know Seifer."

"Of course I do. I once reviewed his files. He's a kid who needed a little polishing, that's all. Well…he had done some mistakes of gigantic proportions, but still…"

She took the cup of coffee from the corner of the small creaky desk, apparently, the best desk the hotel can provide, and took a sip. Wrong move. Too hot.

"Shit."

"What happened?" a worried voice asked.

"Coffee. Hot," she swore she sounded like a retardate.

"Be careful now, Quis. Wait, since when had you been drinking coffee?"

"Goddammit!" she almost screamed as she stood up abruptly. She cursed under her breath as she took the nearest towel to wipe the drenched papers.

"Cockroach?"

"Worse," she said as she took a closer look at the once-white-now-brown papers. The ink had ran down and melted on some parts but she could still make out some words. "I spilled the coffee. My paper's ruined."

"You didn't have copies?" his voice was hinted with disbelief.

"No, I don't have any." Damn circumstances to hell. She would have had copies, multiple copies even, if only the town had any functional Xerox machine and if only she wasn't given the mission with only an hour to spare before her train leaves. They must have ganged up on her, they knew she would decline so they gave it to her too late when a replacement would be no option.

She wasn't even able to tell William that she had been assigned and that she was going. On second thought, she didn't really have to, since a very hyper Selphie and a dangerously willing Irvine made sure that the entire Garden would become aware of her departure when they literally dragged her out of Garden.

"I'll have it sent," William was quick to volunteer help.

"No, don't bother. You've got lots in your hands right now. I can just type it or something." She didn't have a photographic memory for nothing. She laid out the papers on the bed to let it dry. She sighed. "Are they really planning on sending me alone?"

"Things are pretty hectic here. I don't think that they can send anyone for the moment," he replied. "Unless you want to babysit a cadet…"

No answer. That was enough a reply for him.

"So, how are _you?_" his voice was low. "Can't wait till you're back. We've still got lots to plan."

She smiled slightly and sat down on the bed. She looked at her hand, at the carbon-packed rock on her finger.

How long had it been? Almost eighteen months now since she had allowed herself to be romantically linked with a man, to feel the security, the delight and a thousand other emotions for, and with, a certain person. Just like Rinoa and Selphie.

The rock felt heavy on her hand. It had never left her hand for almost three weeks now. She can still vividly remember that night when he had given her the ring. He had asked her to watch an opera with him. She agreed even though she knew that her ears would almost already be popping by the end of the first act. She didn't like rubbing elbows with the elite that much. They left after the second act. She only needed to tell him that she was wondering how Xu was dealing with the recent stir caused by a T-rexaur escaping the training center, for him to get the hint that she wasn't enjoying the show much.

After one wonderful dinner, two wineglasses emptied and a hundred whispered curse words intended to whoever designed such a revealing dress, the one that she was forced to wear, he escorted her back to her room.

"_Did you notice the sky outside? It's extremely beautiful tonight, isn't it?" he asked. Since when hadWilliam been a sky person? _

"_Yes, I noticed it too. It was beautiful. It almost seemed like someone pulled the earth closer to the stars." She was walking beside him, their every step was taken as if synchronized._

"_The stars were almost like diamonds." Hmmm, where is this going?_

"_Yes, diamonds in black silk."_

_There was an awkward silence. He seemed to be deep in thought. He was holding her hand as they walked. _

"_Do you like diamonds, Quistis?" he asked as they reached her door._

"_Do I what?"_

"_Do you like diamonds? As in rings, earrings, necklaces…"_

_Thoughts filled her head. 'He's not going to propose now, is he?' she thought. She looked at him worriedly. What would she say if he asked her to marry him? Should she say yes? But she really loves her life right now. Should she say no? But that will break his heart. If she said let's wait, will he get offended?_

"_I suppose, yes," she answered, her voice was tensing. _

"_Then you would like this," he said as he reached a hand to the inner pocket of his coat. His hand reappeared with a tiny black box. Her heart pounded furiously and she could have sworn her body froze for a second. _

_Oh no, he's going to propose…but that's supposed to be a good thing, isn't it?_

_She swallowed hard before she opened the tiny box with unsteady hands. The diamond glittered, glimmering with the fluorescent lights installed along the corridors. It was beautiful…but it wasn't a ring. _

"_I was about to give you a more extravagant one, but then I thought you couldn't wear a big necklace with your uniform," he told her._

_She was kind of disappointed. Scratch that. She was utterly disappointed. Suddenly, she wished that he had just proposed. What the hell was she thinking? Who wants to marry her anyway? After all, she is, according to some concerned friends, a bossy workaholic and an uptight I-don't-have-a-life-and-I-have-no-intentions-of-getting-one bitch. Okay, they didn't exactly say that, but that's what it meant in a nutshell. She wanted to punch something, or better yet, leave someone maim. _

_She forced a smile and let him put the necklace on her. It was basically a silver chain with a square diamond pendant. It must have been expensive. Hell, everything he ever gives was expensive._

"_Thank you," she said, giving the jewelry on her neck a gentle stroke. _

"_It's beautiful," she added. Not exactly what I expected, but beautiful nonetheless. _

_He smiled at her, his brown eyes looking at her intently. "I better go now," he told her after a long silence. She nodded and kissed him. He kissed her back. _

_She pulled away when the kiss got a bit too passionate. She looked to her left and right, checking if anyone had seen them. She didn't particularly like seeing fellow SeeDs kissing and wouldn't really like to be seen doing the same as well._

_She gave him a smile before she opened her door. She was about to go in when she stopped and turned round her heel. "We're not supposed to wear jewelry with our SeeD uniforms."_

_He gave a soft chuckle. Trust Quistis to follow each and every rule in the book. "Wear it when doing your paperwork, and when in a light mission."_

_She nodded before she went inside her room. She didn't invite him in. They weren't really in sleeping together terms. He had no complains about it even though Zell told her, after she threatened his supply of hotdogs, that William's lack of "relationship privileges" was fast becoming a favorite topic in their 'manly' shower room talks. Zell told her that during those times, William would just flash his billion megawatt smile at them and endure the banters from the boys. When she got Zell to admit that he too joins with the teasing, she pulled some strings so that Zell would get absolutely no hotdogs for a week. Serves him right for tormenting such a good man like William! _

_She managed to find the bed amidst the dark and immediately plopped down the soft mattress. One year, five months, and twelve days of a smooth-sailing relationship, another wonderful romantic night, a shower of gifts, one new I'm-more-expensive-than-thou necklace and still no ring. Apparently, no one wants to marry a prude. _

_She found herself curling up on the bed, closing her eyes. Her head hit something in the process. She quickly sat up, turned on the lights and saw a small box on the bed. She quickly took the box and opened it. _

_Inside was the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen and a little paper with 'Marry Me' written neatly on it. _

_She quickly found herself opening the door, finding a smiling William at her door and jumping towards him with an embrace. Selphie and Rinoa were very happy for her…not to mention that Rinoa was green with envy._

"I'm fine. I think I have just enough patience to last this mission," she said over the phone.

She heard a woman's voice in the background. The voice must belong to his secretary. "Uh, Quis, I better go now."

"Work?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I also better get going now, it's a long drive to the prison."

"Okay. I love you."

"Same here. Bye."

Click.

She looked at the papers arranged neatly on the bed in an attempt to be dried and found that it was missing a couple of papers. For some strange reason, and by very strange means, it found its way out the window. With a hand on her hip and another on her forehead, she sighed.

Fine.

Bad has just gone to worse.

#-

"…pretty. You saw her?"

"…She's one of the war heroes, isn't she?"

"…I'll kill to be in the same room with her. Lucky bastard!"

What the fuck!

He could hardly believe his ears. The guards here must really be deprived. Quistis…pretty? Maybe if you're a spectator from afar, you can say that…but not when you get to meet her and see how tough, bitchy and annoying she can really get. Now they had him wishing he didn't hear anything they said.

He was walking along one of the prison corridors. The prison was unfamiliar; it was nothing like the D-District prison. He heard that D-District prison was shut down a couple of years ago. This prison was somewhat low-tech, almost primitive, as compared to the prison for Vinzer Deling's favorite convicts and it was situated farthest from the cities. For a change, this particular portion of the prison didn't stink. He was escorted towards a door that thankfully, didn't have _Torture Chamber_ written on it.

"Your lawyer's waiting. I suggest you don't do anything stupid, son, or I'll beat the crap out of you," the jail guard did his best to look threatening. "We'll be right outside the door."

The door was opened for him and he stepped in, but not before he was given a hard shove.

"If you need anything, miss," the guard said courteously to the woman sitting in front of the conference table.

"We'd be fine. Thank you," Quistis was just as courteous. The guard nodded and glared at Seifer before he closed the door.

"Now this is what I'm talking about," he said appreciating every part of the room. For one, it was air conditioned. He couldn't be more thankful to whoever invented air conditioner. It was neat, polished and has a distinct office smell. A brown sofa was located on the far end of the room, the conference table and the chairs were made of strong polished narra and the curtains were of velvet royal blue. The thing that he appreciated the most was the coffeemaker located near the couch.

"You're not receiving any VIP treatment, don't flatter yourself," Quistis' voice was stern. She had three years to practice sounding as stern as possible. She started the mastery a few weeks after she lost her instructor's license. She thought that if she can sound stern enough, she could demand each and every student to follow her

Seifer walked around the room for a while before he sat down on the soft, comfy couch. It was then that he had been most aware and aggravatedwith the presence of his handcuffs.

He raised his hands a bit to Quistis who was now standing some distance in front of him.

"Sorry, no key."

"I know you've got something there that's just as useful."

She rolled her eyes, "No, Seifer."

_It's not like I'm going to attack you. _He regarded the Save-the-Queen on her belt. _For that particular reason. _He's not in his best shape and the whip didn't look friendly at all. Quistis, a whip and handcuffs. Dreams do become reality…but not exactly how you want it.

"What? All of a sudden, you're afraid to be kicked in the ass?"

"No, I'm afraid I might end up killing someone."

"It's not like you haven't killed anyone before."

"But I haven't killed a hybrid of a someone and a something before. I'm not really up for genocide today."

He grinned. "I never doubted that I'm your favorite."

She shoved her eyeglasses with one finger, took a manila folder from the table and threw it on the coffee table in front of Seifer.

"What's this?" he asked, a non-too-excited look on his face.

"Read it."

"What for?"

"Just read it."

He raised his cuffed hands to Quistis and gave her a can't-you-see-I'm-fuckin'-cuffed look.

"What now? Your wrists are linked together. You're not a cripple. Go use your teeth if it helps," her voice was laced with exasperation.

"Last night was that bad?" he asked with a naughty grin.

"Fuck you, Almasy, go turn the page and read!" It was an order. She was not in the mood to argue with Seifer. She's sleepy, she's tired, and she's stressed. Seifer's pushing is the least of her needs.

He complied. Quistis didn't look like she was up for some more teasing. She looked stressed, and this stress was conveyed through a couple of strands of hair that wasn't in place. The dark circles under her eyes were another proof. _And fuck, why do I have to notice everything?_

He turned to the second page and was greeted by chunks of words written in small text. He turned the pages and found that there were at least twenty more of it. Not good.

He closed the folder. "Okay, so what is it about?" he asked, trying to get a comfortable position in the couch.

"I told you to read it."

"You already did, why should I?"

"It's your rights."

He raised an eyebrow and gave her an amused look. "I have thirty pages of rights?"

"No, it' also a graphic step-by-step procedure on how they'll kill you. I thought you wanted to know." She placed a hand on her hip.

"What a fuckin' waste of paper."

She gave him a glare. No use making him read it. After being his teacher for a year, she should have already known that Seifer wasn't the reading type, or the one who follows any orders, for that matter. "You're protected by the laws protecting any normal prisoner. You have their rights…and that includes a right to a bath," she sniffed and gave him a disgusted look. He wasn't really that smelly, but she needed to make her point.

"Does it also include the right to some cigarettes?"

"No. They don't really like being beaten to the killing by some nicotine-packed stick," she answered quickly. "You'll have shorter visitation hours but longer lawyer visits. You are free to consult with your lawyer anytime you wish since this case is of high priority."

Like who's going to visit him anyway? It's not like he had many friends back when he was just a small-time prick. Raijin and Fujin maybe, but then he doubted they can get to the prison without getting lost in the forest for days.

She continued, "You've got only a very slim chance of getting acquitted. One of them is by appealing that you're not in your proper mental state, but seeing that you're still the asshole that you were before, we can't exactly reason that now, can we?"

"Tell them you had the time of your life with me, then they'll have the surprise of their lives."

"I'm not going to lie for you, Seifer."

"You're my lawyer, whether you like it or not."

"I'm not exactly a lawyer."

"You would love to see me die, won't you?"

She was surprised by the question. Why would he ask such a preposterous question, a question he, more or less, already knows the answer to? She raised an eyebrow. He was waiting for an answer.

"I won't exactly see you die," she said. Strange, three years ago she would have easily said yes. Endangering the lives of the people she loves and destroying her beloved home had turned her hope and optimism for Seifer to hatred. _I guess even hatred fades with time. _

"You know what the fuck I mean."

"Fine, I would have loved to see you die during the second sorceress' war, Seifer. If I had the chance, I would have killed you, I would have laughed afterwards, but things didn't go exactly as planned," her answer had been frank. She didn't mind coming off rude, Seifer may also have had the same in mind.

"That makes the two of us," he shrugged. He wished night and day that he had died during the wars. So there would be no nightmares and no ghosts. Nothing. It would have been a lot better for him, for everyone.

"Then why didn't you just kill yourself?" It was asked purely due to curiosity.

…_because I'm afraid. _

…_because suicide is not for the weak like what everybody thinks. You have to be brave to kill yourself, to venture out of the lifestyle you've been so used to, to know that you can never go back and it was all your fault. Shoot me now, it would be fine with me, but I would never do it myself. _He couldn't possibly tell her this, could he? So he opted for another answer.

"…and what? Save you from this dysfunctional mission? Hell no! I might even enjoy this." His grin couldn't be more loathsome to Quistis. Had his wrists been free, he would have stretched his hands to the length of the sofa, just to irk her some more.

She rolled her eyes but still continued, "I suggest you try not to make too many enemies while you're here. They'll be watching your every move, they'll be waiting for your every mistake and they will not hesitate to take it against you."

He just shrugged.

"Do you still want me to continue on what's going to happen to you if found guilty?" she asked.

"Not really. It doesn't really matter, I've been through hell already."

"Didn't think so."

"Do I get to drink coffee?" he asked, eyeing the unassuming coffeemaker.

"Help yourself," she told him as she sat down on one of the wooden chairs. She doubted he can succeed without hurting himself, considering that he was cuffed and all. The sadistic side of her hoped that the coffee would be scalding hot.

He stood up and made his way to the corner. Quistis was eyeing him through her spectacles. Former adversary _plus_extremely hot coffee _plus _accident _equals_ **much deserved amusement**. Who said math can't be fun? Much to her dismay, he was able to successfully pour himself some coffee and add sugar to it without losing a body part in the process.

He walked towards the table and sat across her, placing the cup on the table. His hands were a bit shaky but he had managed not to spill anything. "So, what do we do now?" he asked.

"We start by you telling me everything."

"Which part of everything do you like to know?"

"I said everything, Seifer. The whole deal…I don't want you to give me chunks."

"Should I start when I was born? Coz fuck, I can't rem—"

"No, at the start of the—" she sighed. He was doing it purposely. "What part of everything can't you understand? Would you like me to spell it out for you?"

"Would you charge for the course, instructor?" He asked with a smirk. He noticed that anything linked to her being a former instructor was a bit touchy.

"Shut up, Seifer."

"You wanted me to talk, now you want me to shut up. Make up your mind, Quis."

"That's Miss Trepe for you, Mr. Almasy."

"Fuck. You call me Seifer all the time…why can't I call you Quistis?" It was a faulty argument, but he said it anyway. It's not really easy to think of an impressive argument in a split second.

"Whatever…" She was not particularly interested in arguing with Seifer over such a childish matter.

"Now you sound like Squall. Wonderful. At least now, you've got something in common."

"Fuck you."

"Very professional, aren't we, Ms. Trepe?" he simpered.

"With you, nothing can be professional or can even come close."

"Yeah, I know. I've got that effect on women, you see. Sometimes, I just wish that they would see beyond my good looks and stop seeing me as a sex object," he grinned.

"I'll say it again. Fuck you…and stop wasting my time." She was getting impatient. Seifer wasn't helping at all.

"Short fuse today, eh? We used to have longer conversations without you succumbing to an infamous PMS."

"Things change," her voice was flat. Yes, things do change. The wheel keeps spinning. Just like how they have all managed to have a childhood together…and eventually become bitter enemies. From a (relatively) harmonious coexistence to bloodlust to total indifference. But just like seasons, these changes become a cycle, up to the point that the change was almost constant. A dysfunctional life will change, but will somehow still manage to remain dysfunctional through it all.

"Seifer, I would really appreciate it if you would cooperate," she was serious. It can be seen in her eyes.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Wherever you feel is the most important."

He took a sip from his coffee. The cuffs are annoying him, it's slicing the skin on his wrists. He sat still for a couple of minutes.

"What?" she was impatient. She thought he was still playing his game.

"I'm thinking here, okay?" he hissed.

Seifer doesn't usually do a lot of thinking, as can be proven by the brashness of his actions and its consequences. His life's education was basically based on the principle of cause and effect. He would always know the lesson too late, when the effects were already at his door, waiting to pounce on him. It was a rare sight to see him quietly sit down and rummage through his brain for anything. She waited for his answer and quietly watched as his eyes peered here and there into space and as lines on his forehead appear and vanish while he was thinking. Two dark brown eyebrows met and he slouched forward, placing both elbows over his knees.

"I can't…" he lifted his head to look at her after a few more minutes.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't remember…"

#-

Yey, thank you for the reviews! Haha…hope you'll continue reading this. I'll post the next chapter soon. Read and Review!


	3. Anamnesis

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that will give me millions. That's it.

This is the third chapter. There should be another scene here, but I couldn't finish it so I decided to scrap it. The slow pace kinda reminds me of a soap opera, but don't worry, I promise that there'll be much progress in the storyline on the fourth chapter. I also edited the first and the second chapter. I added some stuff. The tree hanging thing in the last part isn't mine, Got that from somewhere, can't remember. Save for that idea, the rest are mine. Anyway, why am I keeping you with my babble? Read on…

**Chapter 3: Anamnesis**

_Close your eyes Dry your tears  
'Coz when nothing seems clear  
You'll be safe here_

_From the sheer weight  
Of your doubts and fears  
__weary heart  
You'll be safe here_

… _When the light disappears  
And when this world's insincere  
You'll be safe here_

_When nobody hears you scream  
I'll scream with you  
You'll be safe here_

_-_You'll be Safe Here, Rivermaya

-

The sun was fierce all over Centra, its rays glazed and burned the barren fields that once boasted of fine civilization. The soil glistened back at the sun, showing off with pride the light it had stolen from the skies. The wind was frozen and even air itself could hardly breathe. The trees glistened in orange hues and had long bowed itself with the agony and the stillness of life. In this place where even death is luxury, all hopes had died.

A jail guard wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand and licked on his dry, lifeless lips. He sighed. What's taking them so long?

"What do you mean you can't remember?"Quistis asked, a very disapproving look on her face.

"I can't…I have fragments, but they don't really make any sense,"Seifer answered, looking at the woman in front of him. He was serious, and possibly for the first time since they've talked, honest.

He can recall vague occurrences from time to time. Obscure scenes that come and disappear like the wind but leaves the uneasy feelings. It leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, a chilling sensation to the spine and _guilt_, yes, the ever-consuming guilt.

"How can you possibly—"

"It's not easy recalling in three minutes something you've been dying to forget for almost three years," he cut her off.

"Fine then, what do you remember?" She rolled her eyes.

"Timber."

"Pardon me."

"I remember going to Timber. Deling's life by my blade. That's where all it started, did it not?"

"Why did you go there?" she took out a pen and a couple of blank sheets of paper. She started to write down.

"I can't recall," he lied. He knew exactly why he went there. It was because of Rinoa. He thought she needed him—and not just some lame-ass excuse for a SeeD trio. He was the knight, not them, not Squall.

Somehow, he had wanted to help…Now, it reminded him why he never liked to help back then. Hell, he should have sticked to not helping and not caring. That way, he won't be in this big a trouble.

"Do you remember being called by the sorceress?" she asked.

"Yeah…"

"Tell me what happened there."

"The woman called out, promising, assuaging, comforting. What power do I have against her? I couldn't refuse."

"What did she promise?" she noted the sudden change in his voice at the mention of the sorceress.

Life. Freedom. Acceptance.

She offered everything he could possibly want. She saw deep down him, down where even he dared not look. She found him hollow and offered a fill. And he had wanted it, he consented it.

She offered, he accepted.

It was the realization of a dream. But dreams quickly turned to nightmares and nightmares to reality.

"She promised everything I could possibly want."

"And what is that?"

He looked at her, rather annoyed. "Why do you have to stick your nose to every detail?"

She didn't waste any time and went to the next question. "When you disappeared, where did she take you?"

He thought for a moment. "Some place filled with light. I could hardly see anything. I was nowhere, for all I could have cared."

"We all thought you died then…"

"It was something like that," he shrugged.

The day he walked towards the gravely misleading light, he had started to die. Strangely enough, he had welcomed his death with openarms and with anticipation in his heart.

"Did she ask you to do anything you didn't want to do?"

"I can't remember. All I know is that I was her bloodhound, her right hand. I do as she bids…but I have no recollection whether I, also, had wanted it or not," he looked down; perhaps it was shame that, for a second, found its way to resurface in his green eyes.

"Do you remember killing anyone?" she pushed her glasses up her nose.

"Trying to kill your whole gang, yeah. Squall, definitely. I led the war against Balamb…I might have killed hundreds in the process." He said noncommittally.

_If he can remember trying to kill them and leading the sorceress' war…does that make him guilty?_ She shook the thought off and proceeded to ask, "any prominent figures?"

"Maybe a couple." He wasn't sure.

"Can you name any of them?"

"No."

She sighed. They weren't really going anywhere. How can she solve the puzzle in six weeks if he can't remember most of the pieces? Hyne, somebody save her from this mission!

"What do you need to remember?"

"Huh?"

"Will names help?"

"I guess…"

She scanned through her files. "Do you recall anyone by the name Trevor Weston?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"No…" he took a sip from his cup.

She sighed. "What am I gonna do with you?"

A grin found its way to his lips. He just can't help but love the whole irony of the situation. One of the war heroes, the one he had tried to kill on most occasions…losing her mind to get him back his life. Nothing in life could ever come as a surprise after this.

She gave him a pen and a sheet of paper. "I'll give you fifteen minutes, write the names of all the people you remember killing…or trying to."

"What's with you and written tests?" he asked with a sneer.

She just gave him an evil grin.

-

"Not looking so good, is it?" Rinoa asked the commander.

Squall didn't answer. No point stating the obvious.

She flopped down his desk chair. She was the only other person allowed to sit down on his chair. He was the commander and he had been successful in making everyone feel so. He never became too friendly in dealing with anyone, always treating everyone as his subjects, not friends. All, of course, for the exception of her. Thinking about it, he had always been successful in alienating himself from everyone else. Only now, he had been a little less bitchy but still very difficult to deal with. If you're not Rinoa, Xu, a military tactics book, or a subject with very urgent news, you're not welcome in his office.

Contradicting, that's how he is. He was very much concerned with the welfare of Garden as the commander but very much apathetic when it comes to his subject's feelings and personal burdens. Sometimes, they wondered if he had any heart at all…well, except for that soft spot that Rinoa had found and instilled in him. The military was not a place for heart, though. To them, he had always been the great commander, he had been serving his purpose well and it was more than enough for them.

"There has got to be another reason why they're suddenly into penalizing Seifer," she said, putting her fist in contact with her chin to support her head. As unbelievable as it may seem, Rinoa does think sometimes.

"and Matron…" Squall followed up.

Matron, Cid's wife wasn't an exception. Suddenly the World Council had organized a committee concerned with investigating just how much Edea and Seifer were involved with the plans of taking over and/ or destroying the world almost three years ago. No representative from Balamb Garden was part of the committee. The fact that Balamb Garden not only houses the ex-sorceress (and the new one) but also was part of her knight's military education, and whatever else comes with it, didn't help in removing the Garden's name from their _To Investigate_ list. Also known as the _Pending to bomb, eradicate, destroy and terminate_ list.

"Hey, I thought they're going to drop those charges. She's innocent, she was possessed," she said, starting to rearrange the stuff on his table. _This goes here, this one here..._

"They refuse to think so." He was staring at the expanse of the ocean, its waves violently crashing at the base of the sturdy Garden, through the huge glass wall of his office.

"She's a victim too…and Seifer as well."

Squall mindlessly nodded, his thoughts were elsewhere. He was most concerned about getting the Garden away from the Council's deadly vision and its members' pointy fingers. And getting Matron out of trouble was in his list too.

"Seifer's innocent. He was under the control of the sorceress."

"We're not sure of that," his voice was as monotonous as ever.

"I'm the one he took and fed to Adel…but still I say he's innocent." She said, sounding as if she was the authority when it came to such matters.

…_and I'm the one who had to deal with his troubled snobbish self everyday as a cadet. I'm the one he tortured, dueled with and pretty much tried to kill whenever he had the chance during the sorceress wars. And lastly, I think I would be the better judge of character since I was never romantically linked to him. But then again, that's just too many words put together, I doubt I could say it without over-exerting myself, so I'd rather not answer._

"…"

"I hope Quistis will win his case."

"…"

"She's good in everything; I know she'll win him his life. Seifer is a good man."

"…"

Rinoa noticed the lack of response and quickly turned the chair 180 with the push of her feet. She was now facing him, his back still turned to her. "and I think we have to talk about us, our situation. You see, everyone's-"

"…"

Still no answer. She doubted he was even listening. Sometimes she wished, as a sorceress, she'd learn to cast a spell that would make him talk like any normal person. She shook her head. What was she doing anyway? It's not like he would care about anything she would say right now. He's got tons of problems and another one would certainly tip the balance he'd been trying so hard to preserve.

She sighed and stood up, making her way out of his office. "I'm going to check on what Zell and company are up to." She closed the door behind her.

She bumped into a very busy Xu who was just in her way to see the commander, sending folders and papers flying. Xu gave her a "Xu" look, which can be described as the very distinct way Xu looks at you whenever you get yourself in trouble for the stupidest of reasons, the one that can make you cringe and want to dig yourself a hole in the ground until no one would recall how stupid and careless you have been.

"I'm sorry," Rinoa quickly apologized.

"It's okay…" Xu said. You can't really get mad at the commander's girlfriend, could you? Not to mention that the commander's girlfriend is also a sorceress…

The two women started picking up the papers and trying their best to put what belongs in which folder at the least possible time. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you," Rinoa started apologizing again as the last of the papers were being arranged.

"No harm done." Xu said monotonously. She quickly dusted off her creaseless uniform and picked up the pile on the floor. She quickly got up and made her way to the commander's office, leaving Rinoa to wonder whether she was mad or not.

She found Squall arranging back his things on the table, a frown and an irritated look on his face. "News?" he asked upon feeling her presence.

_This one's not going to lift your frown, either. _Xu thought.

"The Council sent us word, sir," she told him, placing the pile of papers on his table.

_This can't be good._

"They are greatly disapproving of our choice of Seifer's representative for the trial, they said that Quistis Trepe played a major part in the second sorceress' wars and should not be involved in the prosecution. They said she would insert biases for our part in the _theoretically_ fair trial," Xu said, emphasizing the last sentence with a hint of sarcasm.

"What did they say they want us to do? Send a junior classman?" Squall asked. _They want him dead, don't they? So what's the problem with Quistis representing Seifer?_

Xu almost laughed. It was finally confirmed, sarcasm isn't such a foreign word to Squall after all. "They want us to pull out Trepe and send a new representative."

"That's useless."

"I said so myself, but that's what they want. So, shall I send Trepe a pull-out order?"

Squall thought for a while. "I'll talk with the Council first."

"Pulling her out _now_ is the best, sir. Doing it later would only cause-"

"They only find it disapproving; it's not against the law. There would be no pull-out until I settle this with the Council."

"Yes, sir."

"Anything else?" Squall asked.

"These papers need signing. We received some calls from independent factions asking for SeeDs, the reports are already here. There's an evident increase in requests for our services, sir. May I say, the second half of the year looks promising." She said pertaining to the papers she just brought in. "The Garden Festival committee is asking for an increase in budget designation, aside from that, everything's in order, sir."

He opened the first folder, then the second. He shook his head upon reading the request. "Fall out," he told Xu. "Oh, and send in Tilmitt."

"Sir, yes, sir," Xu did a perfect salute and stalked out.

-

Water felt like sharp shards of ice. Micro-blizzaga. He felt like his head was being pounded by sharp needles of solid acid. It was terribly cold…but refreshing.

He turned the knob to soften the outburst of water. He stood still for some time, clenching the sore muscles in his arms. He ran his hand over his chest and winced in pain when he touched a sore spot just above his ribcage. The water formed beads across his shoulders and he watched as it formed mini-puddles on the floor which was later pulled down the drain by the hungry force of gravity.

Finally, a bath.

This privilege doesn't come without a price though. Two hours ago, he was arguing with a guard over letting him take a bath. As expected, the guard was quick to go against the idea. Hyne, had he suggested they shoot him on his foot, they would have declined only because it was **his** idea. He had to engage in a screamfest, get a new vocabulary lesson (insults have never been made as quick and as creative before), and fight in a ring for ten minutes against a big, butt-ugly monster they call _prisoner number 23_. After winning the match, gaining an additional cut on his face, and serving as a momentary gladiator, a primitive form of entertainment, to the bloodthirsty assholes who work in the prison, he was finally able to win his right to a bath.

He tilted his head and let the icy water cool his face. He had expected the water to be warm, considering that it's sunny and desert-hot in the place during the day, but Centra have always had a reputation for being mystical. He couldn't hear the guards talking outside anymore. They could already be plotting against him, for all he cared. He wouldn't be surprised if in any moment, the water would turn to sulfuric acid. Then he would be pained and scalded beyond recognition and Quistis would throw a tempestuous fit against everyone in the prison.

Yes, surely she would have the guard's head in a platter. They never really got along back in Balamb Garden but he knew that whatever was under her area of responsibility, she cared about. He was sure she would care about his well-being enough for her to make the guilty suffer under the tentacles of her infamous whip. He was her responsibility after all. Hyne, she would do pretty much the same for her SeeD uniform, had it been trampled by a guilty soul.

She would be here soon, and she's going to ask. He has to remember. He has to make sense of the bitter fragments he was left with. He has to trace the path he once had walked, the road he barely survived. To recall how broken he had been and how weak he was.

It was that moment, when the sorceress called to him back in Timber, it was the moment of irreparable consequences. It all comes down to **that** predicament. Had he made the right choice, everything would still be his. The world would be his to touch and to keep…but regrets never change facts. He had committed a mistake. He had chosen the wrong path.

Hyne, he never wanted to be wrong.

And he could see the past once more, the scenes started playing through his head.

She was there, clad in velvet and mystery, standing before him in all her venomous glory.

"**...Poor, poor boy..."**

_Get the hell away from me._

"…**Such a confused little boy…"**

_Stay back._

He felt her inside of him, moving, commanding. She was crawling in his skin, traveling through his veins, little by little becoming the very life that fuels his body and his desires. She consumed him until he can no longer tell them apart. He resisted but he never won.

"**Come with me to a place of no return. Bid farewell to your childhood."**

He nodded. He stepped into the deceiving light that promised to do so much. He followed her form through the blinding light. She was steady in her walk and she held him, compelled him to follow. And for a long time, he did so.

"**They left you, didn't they?"**

_No. They didn't._

"**No?"**

_No. I left them._

"**Of course you did…but only because they have forgotten about you. They never cared. Nobody loves you, and you know it."**

_That's not true…this is crazy. _

He ceased walking.

"**Is it?"**

_I had a family. They loved me…_

…_didn't they?_

"**If so, where are they now?"**

_They died. _

"**That's what they told you…"**

Confusion started to sink in. He remembered not knowing how exactly they died, no bodies were recovered.

_My sisters, my brothers…back at the orphanage…_

"**They've all forgotten about you. They couldn't accept you. For them, you're nothing but the second best. They're laughing behind your back."**

_No. _

If possible, his thoughts froze. Hesitation and uncertainty filled the air. He was confused, he didn't know what to believe.

Ellone, he never saw her again. Zell, they never really got along, he hated Seifer and he hated him too. Quistis, she had repeatedly ignored him, she had forgotten everything. Squall, he never cared. He had his own world. He had himself and didn't give a fuck about anyone else…The messenger girl and the boy she was always with…where are they?

…_but there was someone else…right?_

"**Tell me, isn't this everything you have ever wanted? I can give you everything they have ruthlessly stolen from you."**

She stopped on her tracks. All he could see was her and nothing else. Nothing behind, nothing beyond.

He reached out to her…to prove she wasn't just an illusion. He saw his hand moving farther away from him and closer to her. With his hand came his submission.

"**Come to me, boy."**

He reached out…

…and she dissolved into a heap of black feathers, dancing in the non-existent wind.

He was furious. The feeling of anguish and frustration started to fill in. He turned and looked around, no one, nothing was there. He was alone…like he'd always been. They always leave. They always do. Suddenly, he felt like he was falling upon the realization—exactly the feeling he had when he heard of his parents' death. The white had begun to envelop him, it was constricting him, sucking his every breath. Memories started to flood in, skipping, overlapping like worn-out film.

His mother, tucking him to bed…and closing the lights against his wishes. She disappeared into the darkness, leaving him crying, lost and in pain.

The blond young boy, laughing at him behind his back.

The girl with the golden hair, looking at him with cold disdainful eyes.

The brown-haired man, returning the scar, wielding his sword against his. Steel clashing with steel. He saw him through the fire, and he had looked down upon Seifer. In his silver blue eyes was contempt, nothing more.

And they have all favored the young man with metal blue eyes over the green-eyed one. And they have liked him though nothing about him was to be liked. They gave him everything though it was him, Seifer, who had asked.

The kids in the orphanage, they left him hanging on to the branch of the tree. Energy was draining off his arms, blood was pumping in his ears, his heartbeat was erratic, and he felt like he wanted to cry. For a long time, he held on…knowing that it was failure and dirt that was waiting for him below.

But he was tired, it was too much pain for a small child. And after the longest time, he let go with a scream.

He fell, recalling the pain of holding on and the wonderful feeling of letting go.

He had never felt dirt to be so soft and warm before.

And she was there, **Matron**, to make the pain disappear. She held the crying child within her protective arms, making the pain vanish as soon as it had come. And he found her, Matron and Edea to be one. She was there with welcoming hands. Her offer looked so tempting.

He stumbled to her feet.

"**It's alright. I'll make the pain disappear. I'll never leave."**

He held on to her with yearning. _Yes, I will be your knight. _

Then, the vision was gone.

He punched on the wall. Deceitful. She knew exactly how to get her toy. To break it apart and rebuild it to her wishing. And he had been weak, easily broken and easily put back.

The tiles broke where his fist had descended upon the wall. He watched with furrowed eyebrows as blood started to trickle down in one viscous line. The red of blood had always been appealing. He pressed his head to the wall and closed his eyes…and for a moment, he remained still.

-

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the fic. I love finding review alerts in the morning, reviews make my day pleasant.

**Sulou**, the hidden agenda will be revealed after some time.

**Reiyuka**, I think you kinda confused mine with another fic, that also happens to me sometimes. But it's all good, thanks for the review. :D

**Tony**, yes, Seifer is a darling! Love him to death.

**Neko-yuff16**, actually I don't know yet how they're gonna get together. I have some ideas, but then again, I always change plots like every five minutes.

And **Bluetooth, Sibilla, Hikari Heijin, Reader **and** Carllah, **thank you for taking time out to check out my fic.

Please review the fic, I'd love to know your comments and please tell me if something's off in the fic. Thanks!


	4. Fallen

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters, even though I'd love to own Seifer. Any donations of a tall young blonde man named Seifer Almasy would be greatly appreciated.

**Chapter 4: Fallen**

_Red sun dawn_

_Guns are drawn_

_Skull and bones_

_Beast of war_

_Father help me stop this_

_Rush of blood to the head_

_Look at you I see red_

_Start this game_

_I'll end it_

… _So now you got the fires rockin_

_Blood and Hate_

_Then you got the people talking_

_Legacy_

_You will never be forgotten_

_Your place in history_

_A black mark in time_

_A black mark in time_

_-_Mr. Clay, Bamboo

-#-

Selphie cheerfully entered the office, giving Squall a wide grin and a high-pitched greeting.

Energy with one additional letter is Selphie. She cheerfully struts her stuff down anywhere she goes. She's the type who sings train songs without being forced to do so and belts out other songs like walking songs, rowing songs and the sorts. Only Hyne knows just how many concerts her shower room had been a stage for. And that's another thing to be thankful to Hyne for.

She seems like she always had five cups of coffee without the jittery side-effects. Surely, she's an energy-packed little thing that could give any multivitamins company a run for their money. A party-planner at heart, she could come up with a hundred and one reasons to celebrate even the most boring of events, even that of mourning for your dead toe. She's the proof that one can still live even with too much glucose in the body. She's generous with smiles, but also generous with other display of emotions like anger, excitement, and dismay. Only Selphie could twist her face in so many different ways, showing a very colorful palette of emotions. She has high pitched voice, surprisingly not as annoying as Rinoa's, but not something you'll welcome first thing in the morning. She's got a childlike exuberance that still continues to be the envy of the serious people in the Garden.

If you see a big yellow fluff hopping around the rather peaceful corridors of Balamb, you can't be wrong, it can only be Selphie Tilmitt.

He was silent for a long time and Selphie had to greet him again to get him to talk.

"I received a request from the Festival Committee." He was concise. He's not really the one to delve into details.

"Yes, budget increase!" she chirped.

"And what, may I ask, is the increase for?"

"The graduation party," she said, looking at him like he'd been living under a rock.

"That's many months from now."

"Yes, but parties don't take only one night to plan. We need to buy supplies now. I heard Esthar's gonna have a sale. It would be better for us to buy stuff from there."

"The sale is a rumor."

She looked at him skeptically. Squall wasn't really the type to shell out money. "How would you know?" her stance was challenging.

He was silent. He wondered why she was even asking. Isn't it evident that if there's going to be some whole-city event in Esthar, he'd be the first person outside the city to know?

She looked at him, cocking her head, demanding for an answer.

"Laguna told me."

_Damn. How could I forget about the dad. Erm, Squall…dad. It's kinda weird, really, to fit those words in one sentence, isn't it?_ She sighed.

Tilmitt.

Selphie!

"Selphie!" he made her snap out of it.

"We need to have a good party. It's what we're known for!" she sounded like she just delivered the best news of all.

He didn't smile. He merely looked at her.

"Okay, fine. Aside from being uber good mercenaries, we're kinda known for throwing great parties. We can't afford to give the next batch of SeeDs a mediocre party, could we?"

"That's basically it. We can't afford." He tried to lead her line of thought to where sensibility and practicality resides.

"Aww…don't be such a penny-pincher!"

"The party's the last of our concerns right now. Matron's in…ehem, the situation of Garden isn't very stable as of this moment. We need as much money as we can allot for arms."

"The war's long over." She said.

"It doesn't really take much to start another," he continued scanning the files in hand.

"Does this mean we're not getting the increase?" she asked, pouting like a child.

Squall looked up at her, she's doing her thing again. The puppy dog eyes, the childlike disappointed gaze, the funny voice and the signature Selphie sigh. It wasn't only once that he almost gave in to it. Almost.

Things that can get Squall to momentarily cease to think and act by the book:

1. Rinoa

2. Selphie's childlike temperament (well, almost)

3. Don't you think having a third thing is pushing a bit too far? After all, we're talking about Squall here.

He quickly took his gaze off Selphie and said, "Matron, she's in trouble and the council is breathing down our neck."

"How bad is it?" she asked, sort of giving up.

"Bad enough for me to ask you to go to a secret mission."

Her eyes widened at this. "Ooh…a mission!" She jumped up and down merrily.

"Did I mention it's top secret?" he asked. Her voice isn't really the softest, it can effuse through metal for all he knows. It made him wonder for a second why he chose her for this.

"Ooh…even more exciting! What do you want me to do?" The lady in the yellow dress was all ears.

-#-

Quistis waited patiently in the prison's conference room, Seifer's list in hand. She read it once more and once again tried to suppress her laughter. Seifer's handwriting was almost unreadable. It seemed like a rooster had a good peck on the letters. Hyne, it had been a really long time since she saw a handwriting as bad as this. She had expected Squall, his ultimate rival, to be the first on the list. She was placed on the list as _nosey instructor_ and Irvine was written as _long hair cowboy_. Many in the list seemed like thug names. They must be people whose existence he tried to terminate** after **the sorceress' wars.

It took forever for her to download the needed files and pictures. It didn't help that her connection was constantly interrupted, and that the power had to go off in the whole village last night. The power outage made the task harder…a lot harder. Whee, working in candlelight's just so romantic! Her vision wasn't that good…and working in the dark had been one hell of an arduous task. Her print-outs were a little messed up as well, since she wasn't able to print the photos in better papers.

After some time, the door opened and she couldn't be more surprised at what she saw. Seifer Almasy, bathed and shaved. His hair was still a bit long, honey blonde hair reaching down mid-ear, but it was combed back smoothly, its strands glistening in the fluorescent lights. His rather unappealing beard and mustache were gone and she could now see the clear, unbruised parts of his face. His clothes were clean, a far cry from the one he was wearing the last time she visited. She noticed that orange compliments with his tan complexion. He must have had a lot of time to work outdoors after the wars, he had a good tan. He was generally clean. _Perhaps he smelled good too. _

"Whaddya know, you actually took a bath," she said, trying to sound as annoying as possible.

As expected, he gave out a little sneer and proudly walked to the nearest chair. "Believe it or not, it's not the first time I ever took a bath. Don't flatter yourself." He sat down. He would have placed his feet over the table but standard prison shoes weren't really something to be proud of.

She gave out a soft chuckle.

"So, Quistis Trepe actually laughs. Didn't know you could actually twist your lips up for more than a second," Seifer teased.

"You know, I do."

"Nah. Not really. You must have shared a laugh with other students, heck, maybe with the Trepies, or Squall...but not with me. You only talk to me to point out my mistakes, remember?"

That actually got her to stop and ponder for a couple of seconds. She might really have had been a little too harsh on him. _Well, he did ask for it_. She tried to justify herself.

"So, what do you have in store for the day? I bet it's gonna be exciting," he said sarcastically. "Are we gonna go surfing? Climb down all the fuckin' way to hell in our imagination? I bet we're going to break into a lotta sweat."

"Actually, we'll start our day with a game. It's called guess the picture."

"Ooh, exciting…" he yawned but almost immediately winced in pain upon stretching some sore muscles. _Fuck, everything's sore._

"That cut's new," she pointed to the one above his right eye.

_Trepe noticed? Damn, that woman notices everything_.

"I hit my face in the shower," he lied.

"Seifer…clumsy?" A hint of disbelief was in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm not a pureblooded monster. I'm fuckin' human too. Front page news."

She gave out another soft chuckle and opened her bag, taking out a smaller white bag with a big cross on it. She laid open he first aid kit across the table and walked towards Seifer, sitting on the edge of the table. He gave her a surprised look. Without a word, she pushed an antiseptic swab onto his face.

Seifer yelped in pain. He quickly pushed her hands away with his cuffed hands. She glared at him. He, in turn, narrowed his eyes at her. She tried to press the antiseptic swab against his face once more but Seifer backed away. She gave him another glare and this time swiftly aimed the swab towards his cut. Seifer took a hold of her wrist, he was practically seeing red. He gave her a deadly stare, somewhat like a warning.

She was not deterred. She'd shove the damned thing to his face even if it's the last thing she'd do. ..just for the hell of it.

Quistis had always acted mature, but as of this minute, she had completely abandoned her sense of maturity. The childish part of her resurfaced…with no reserve.

He leaned on his chair to evade her. It suddenly all became a contest. Whoever gets his or her way is superior. His glare wasn't doing much to stop her. His grip tightened on her tiny wrist.

"Let go, Seifer," she commanded.

He gripped tighter before he finally let go, as if telling her how she'd hate it if she became too persistent.

"What do—Ow!"

She took the moment to catch him off guard. He leaned back further, balancing the chair on its two hind legs. Almost immediately, a sadistic smile formed on her lips and her right foot found its way behind one leg of the chair. With ease, she sent the chair tipping over, Seifer Almasy in tow.

Her eyes were almost gleaming with victory when she felt a swift tug on her wrist. The impertinent lapdog pulled her with him. She saw Seifer smirk with satisfaction before his flesh covered her vision.

Thud!

"Ow! Damn it, Trepe!"

She felt a sharp pain in her forehead upon collision with Seifer's nose and in her shin upon making contact with the wooden chair. She tried to stand up as soon as the world seemed to steady. She soon found the task impossible since her right wrist was still clasped tightly in his hand. She used her other hand as leverage and looked at Seifer whose lips were twisted slightly in pain.

The door flew open and the old guard walked in, a loaded gun in hand. He looked at the scene presented before him: A helpless young man, left leg over the fallen chair. Blonde young woman on top of him, right knee between his legs. Their proximity wasn't close enough for him to be alarmed, yet not far enough for him to dismiss the first idea that popped into his head. To think, this was supposed to be a lawyer and her client.

_Hyne, what's wrong with kids today?_

"Get away from her," he shouted to Seifer, aiming the gun at his head. Seifer looked at him with disbelief.

"It's okay, everything's fine," Quistis said.

"Are you alright?" the guard asked the young lady, taking a step forward.

"Can't you see I'm the one who's in the most danger here?" Seifer asked the old man. He felt like his cut reopened again.

"It's an accident, nothing to worry about," she tried to sound as composed as possible. "Please give us a moment."

The old guard nodded and took a couple of steps backward, the gun still pointed at Seifer. Seifer sighed. Everybody thinks of him as a threat to any life form within 5 meters of proximity. "You could go now, everything's fine," he heard Quistis say. She didn't really fancy the idea of a jail guard seeing her in such position.

"I'll be right outside the door," the guard told Quistis before he went out the room, closing the door behind him.

Quistis made a sigh of relief and soon found herself pulled dangerously close to him. "You'll pay for this, Trepe," he hissed. His glare was deadly.

She immediately pulled herself up, placing her left hand on his shoulder. He might have had some bruises there because he immediately loosened his grip on her hand upon contact. She shifted her weight on her left hand and saw him wince in pain and he let go of her hand completely.

She stood up immediately. "I was just trying to fix your face."

He sat up on the floor and looked at her. "And what? You think that can be achieved by trying to kill me?"

"If you sat still, you wouldn't have fallen," she told him.

"If you didn't just ram the damned thing to my face, I would have sat still."

He stood up, stepped on one of the legs of the chair, lifting it in the process and fixed the furniture into its upright position. He sat down. She fixed her glasses and moved closer to him again. She took another swab, filled it with antiseptic and held it in front of him, somewhat like asking permission.

He just gave her a _hmph_. She took that as a yes and pressed the cotton over the bloody cut. He moved his head back a little in reaction, but didn't move as abruptly as before. This time, she had been a lot more gentle. Now, it seemed like she really wanted to help him and not just merely cause him pain.

"My nose is the only part of my face they haven't broken yet, but thanks to you, it's probably broken now," he complained. She didn't fall towards him that hard, but it would be nice to make up something for her to be guilty about.

Her answer made him wonder why he thought he could make her guilty about anything. He should have expected that she would answer like the prissy know-it-all that she is. "That's weird, expectantly, that's the first thing to receive much damage. The cartilage in the human nose is—"

"Save me the bio babble, okay?"

She just shrugged and continued with her work. Normally, he would have refused any medical treatment, especially one from his former instructor. He wouldn't mind another ugly scar, but it would be nice if she can do something to reduce the swelling.

"What the hell's in there? That actually hurts, you know," he told her after a while.

"Nothing that could kill you. Here…" he was taken by surprise when he felt a warm ticklish sensation just above his eye. It took a while before it registered to him exactly what she was doing. She was blowing over the friggin' cut. Her breath was warm on his skin.

He felt strange upon the whole set-up, the ice queen going all motherly on him. He felt vulnerable and he developed a feeling of hatred for it. He felt the urge to push her away, but decided not to do so since it could possibly cost him another broken bone.

It felt like forever before she removed her attention from the new cut above his eye towards the set of ugly bruises on the other part of his face. He was awfully quiet, only wincing slightly from time to time.

She could hear her own breathing and wondered why the usually talkative troublemaker didn't have anything to whine about. She searched for his eyes and noticed the evil gleam in the emerald orbs. Her eyebrow quirked.

He was sitting on a chair, his former instructor leaning over him, her blouse revealing the delicate contour of her clavicle and a creamy expanse of skin, down, down…damn, trust Quistis to wear a corporate _"grandma"_ attire. Even when she's leaning over, he can't see further down, not even a peek at the _peek-worthy_ stuff. She just did one too many buttons. He was just wondering how far the Trepies had gone as compared to him, which is not far, really, (it could probably cause a crack in his ill reputation) when he felt a hard shove on his chest.

"Do something about your face, it's ugly," she said, shoving the cold pack to his chest, hard.

"Ow!"

He took the cold pack in hand and wondered how he'll manage in his state, with his wrists being linked together, that is. He glanced at her who is now setting up the folders above the table. She felt his gaze and saw Seifer pressing the cold pack to his face awkwardly.

_I guess this leaves me no choice. _

"Your hands," she commanded.

"Why? I won't hesitate to scream bloody murder if you try anything stupid," he said. He was getting the feeling that he's better off in his cell. A visit from three violent jail guards is safer than one from a SeeD on PMS.

She took a pin from her hair and showed him the little thing. He quickly understood and offered his hands. It didn't take long before the damned thing was taken off.

"Fallback profession?" he asked

She ignored him and proceeded on arranging the papers they need. "You were charged with eleven counts of murder, excluding the hundreds of war casualties. You better come up with a good reason for killing them if you do not want to rot in this prison," she told him, giving him his murder roster. He barely glanced at the paper.

"And?"

"Tell me how and why you killed them."

He almost rolled his eyes had it not been too girly. "I told you I can't remember. And what made you so sure I killed them?"

"That's why I brought pictures."

"So this is the game you were talking about."

She gave him the first photo. "Remember this man?"

"Did you bring any food?" he asked. "Hyne knows I'm starving."

"Quit stalling," she glared.

"I'm not stalling."

"Will you just look at the picture and try to recall?"

"Will you let me finish fixing my face?" he spat back. "I don't want its _ugliness_ to bother you."

He leaned back on his chair. Quistis rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that day. It would actually help if Seifer didn't assert his being an asshole.

After what seemed like ages for Quistis, he put down the cold pack and faced her. "Now…what were you saying?"

"Do you remember this man?" she gave him the picture again, sliding it softly across the table.

"No."

"How about this person?" she gave him another photo.

"No," he shrugged.

"Well, how about this one?" she showed him yet another picture. The photo was of a man in a military suit. He was in his late forties. His hair was brushed up smoothly and his stare was icy.

"No, yeah…looks familiar."

"Can you recall where you met this man?"

He sighed. "Hyne, I can't remember. Did I kill that guy? If you're going to ask why I killed him, I don't know. Maybe he was loitering around the corridors, maybe I didn't like his name, or his hair. Or maybe I was slitting people's throats at random and he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

He was rewarded with a stare. The emotions behind the stare were unfathomable.

"He lived in the wrong lifetime," he added.

"Are you certain you can't remember?"

"Positive."

She proceeded to tell him about the men in the photographs. "The earlier pictures were of this man's guards. Their bodies were found nine meters away from the man's body. One of them had his body almost torn in half and the other received a deadly blow on the chest. This man, however, was found dead with a slit in his throat. The theory is that a sword specialist attacked him from behind and slit his throat, almost beheading him in the process."

She showed him a picture of the crime scene. "Their bodies were probably left there for the monsters to eat. His daughter ordered a search party to look for her father though so their bodies were recovered," she added.

He looked at the pictures of the crime scene closely. It was somehow familiar. He couldn't pinpoint when and where exactly, but he knew he'd been there, in dream, in nightmare or in reality.

"_No, stop, don't do this. I beg you…"_

"_Too late…"_

_The leaves danced as the wind whipped through. He held the blade on his right hand and had his left arm wringing someone's neck. He could feel his erratic pulse. Gently, he smiled as the moonlight glimmered on the shiny metal, spreading like white fire engulfing the whole length of his weapon. And with a quick yank, the pleading stopped. _

"Sounds like an important person," Seifer said.

"He's Trevor Weston, a general ruling Whitefield City. He's a council member too. He's one of the few council members who actually does something for the world. Now, you see why people aren't particularly happy about his death," she told him.

"What made you think I killed him?"

"Everybody saw you take Deling hostage. Their murder findings matched the way you attack from behind. This murder linked the other assassinations. This is the strongest evidence they've got against you for the murders."

"Hyne, then I thought they had witnesses," he laughed, finding the whole thing as absurd. "Why would anyone charge murder one someone from a mere assumption?"

"If they won't charge on assumption, eighty percent of murderers would go unpunished. And let us not forget that you led the war between Gardens. The other murders are merely for support," she pointed out.

"So, why aren't we talking about the Garden wars?"

"Because those can easily be dismissed, given that you were possessed and all, had you a good lawyer."

"But I don't have one. They don't really want to give me one, do they? Hyne, if they want me dead, nobody's stopping them," he said, his voice was a bit louder.

"I know you think that this is impossible. But there's always a chance," her voice was smooth, and oddly enough, filled with emotions.

He snapped at this. "Oh yeah, you're always fuckin' good at that. Stop giving me false hope, miss I'm-too-fuckin'-full-of-hope-I'd-spill-it-onto-others. I don't live on hope, and I won't live on your pity either. As you can see, your hope did nothing for me as a student, and it would do nothing to me now. Not because you're so accomplished and good at everything that you can expect the same from other people. Oh wait, you're not perfect. You're a teaching failure and you're a mediocre SeeD, people just happen to be so blind to that fact. Now tell me that I have a chance when all I've got is a mediocre makeshift lawyer as you?"

She didn't answer. She glanced down towards the table. She felt like her wounds had been reopened and all it took was a simple scratch. She had always been uncertain of herself, seeking perfection as salvation. She had to be the best; it's the only thing that can make her feel good about herself. It's the only thing people should see, she cannot let them see past her façade of ice. They shouldn't see the tears she never shed, but had always ran down inside.

Her ice stature started to crumble once more. Uncertainty filled in. Uncertainty truly is the worst feeling. Maybe everyone can see past through her façade, but it's only Seifer who was honest enough to point it out.

"You're right. Salvation is very much improbable, but that doesn't mean I won't do my job. Cooperate…and maybe I'll ask them to stop this bullshit and leave you alone," her voice was stern.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

They were awfully quiet for a while. Neither wanted to speak first. Quistis was busy calming her staggered breathing. Seifer proceeded on using the cold pack again.

Only the hum of the air conditioner can be heard. The silence was deafening. Both were avoiding each other's gaze. They took the time to remind themselves of how much they hate each other. It wasn't long before they can already hear the tick-tock of the wall clock at the far end of room.

"Let's continue. Tell me what you remember about this man," she spoke first. She avoided his proud gaze.

He smiled to himself. He knew she was going to give in eventually, even though a few seconds back, doubt was starting to wash over his confidence. He noticed that she averted his gaze.

"Only that I killed him," his voice was firm and low.

Blue searched for green and saw fire: honest, certain, and with no regrets.

-#-

Yey! Reviews! I love Reviews!

Thanks for checking out this fic. Hugs to everyone who reviewed!

Erm, don't forget to leave a comment, and please tell me if something's wrong with it.


	5. Series Of Unfortunate Events

**Chapter 5: Series of Unfortunate Events**

A/N: This chapter's long overdue. I'm really very sorry for that. Long exams and school requirements came flooding in. I just had my finals last week. I'm already mourning for my grades…:((

Anyway, I'm in need of a **beta reader**. If anyone would be so kind to volunteer…I'd be so grateful.

The title of the chapter is from Lemony. I just happened to love the movie and found some connections to the scenes here and ta-da! A title!

Hmm, I'm not really feeling well as of the moment but I think I really need to post this chapter now, so forgive the incoherent introduction.

Anyway, here's chapter 5. The next chapter would probably be up in two weeks.

* * *

Days passed with not much progress in the case. The ghosts had always visited, but he couldn't grasp them long enough to remember. He hated the fact that he had to recall his dark past, that he had to wish the nightmares would come. He'd always wake up screaming in the middle of the night, screaming out words he never even realized he knew. He'd be covered with sweat, salty drops clinging onto his skin, trying to wash away all the bitter emotions. All its efforts in vain. It would have been the job of tears, but he never shed one. Not since he cried after getting out of time compression barely alive. He had wept then, he wept for all the mistakes he'd committed, for all the sorrow he'd brought, for his life he destroyed and most of all, for being unfortunate enough to have lived—for being given another chance. 

_Hyne, I never deserved another chance._

She'd come almost everyday at exactly the same time, sit on the exact same chair in the exact same position, waiting for him. They'd alternate quipping the first witty insult for the day, and the conversation would naturally go on from there. The greeting always had to make an impact. After some time though, they had learned to ignore most of the insults.

She'd ask and ask, he'd always make an excuse not to answer most of them. He never really liked to share, may it be blessings or his own troubles and curses. Mocking ideas, criticisms, harsh comments and complaints though, he'd gladly fire away.

At first, his reason for not making her job any easier by answering her questions was because he truly believed that it was none of her business. He soon realized that he was just plainly ashamed to answer, to tell her his flaws and his mistakes. He was aware that she already knew almost everything he'd done wrong; maybe she could even point out his mistakes better than he can. It was just that he never really fancied the idea that he'd be the one to put them into words and end up revealing much more than he would want to. In his case, it was easier if the truth came from somebody else, that way he'd be judged only for what he did, he didn't have to wait for any verdict arising from the examination of his choice of words or the changes in his tone. Plus, he could always think to himself that they heard wrong.

Sometimes, he'd give some details, honest accounts of what he can remember—he just wouldn't tell her why or exactly how. He'll give her an overview when all she ever begged for were details and reasons.

He would stall, finding amusement at just how frustrated she can get. She'd blush from time to time, not because of anything but of anger. She turns a certain shade of pink when she's angry. He never noticed it before. At least not the _certain_ shade. He enjoyed trying to decipher what exactly was in her mind at a given situation. So far, he'd seen angry, cool, fuming, frustrated, deadly, apathetic, stoic, irritated, disappointed and the all-too-familiar emotionless. Perhaps he could brag about having seen that much emotions from the ice queen. Disappointed was his favorite. Not because of anything else, but because it was the one he was most familiar with. She had always showed him that emotion. It was something, he thought, she had reserved for him.

She was furious when she learned about Prisoner # 23. Boy, was she mad! She was, if possible, four shades redder than her usual blush, nerves started twitching here and there. She didn't talk to him for an eternity…which lasted about seven minutes. Her glance was deadly, her silence was choking. The tension in the air made it harder to breathe, a lot harder. It was like being a kid all over again waiting for your punishment…and you've wronged the last person you ever wished to mess with. The anticipation could kill.

"Very smart decision, Almasy, very smart…" she said between gritting teeth. She was trying her best to keep her hands to herself and not strangle him.

"I didn't kill the guy," he told her in his defense. A sneer graced his features upon remembering just how bloody the man was when he left the makeshift ring, "just left him maim."

"And am I supposed to be thankful for that?" she was pacing across the room. "If you don't know, Mr. Almasy, normal people don't usually beat the life off someone just to take a bath."

"I'm special, I know."

Quistis shot him a disgusted glare. She couldn't believe anyone could be as illogical, insensitive, violent, arrogant and inconsiderate as Seifer. "I thought I told you not to make new _friends_ here."

He chuckled. "Was I supposed to take that as an order?" He couldn't understand why she was so mad. He'd be the one to face the firing squad or burn at the stake if ever, not her. Women, no…Quistis, surely was complicated.

Her steps quickened, every succeeding step was heavier than the preceding one. She could see it now; the jury would learn of this and take his violent behavior as grounds for his execution. How could she reason out that it was an accident or an act of self-defense? He was proving to be exactly what she thought he would be. A total pain Lady (Mis)fortune directed her way to punish her for as long as her sanity's intact.

"Will you calm down and stop moving around!" he sounded annoyed.

"Stop moving around?" she asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice. How dare he order her now?

"You're giving me a headache," he continued.

"And now I'm the one giving you a headache?" her eyes narrowed. He looked at her quizzically. Was she starting to lose some brain cells or was this the side-effect of her usually not-so-wisely vent out anger? If his extremely short-term memory was working correctly, he'd recall she had just been repeating what he said, only adding an accent on the last syllable turning it into an interrogative sentence.

"You know what? I don't need this. Let's drop it. I don't need you going all Virgil on me, I can find my own way to hell without you."

_So, Seifer actually reads intellectually-stimulating books? Hmm…_

Within a couple of milliseconds, she had completely discarded the thought and recuperated from the shock and assumed that he just heard it somewhere. "Drop this? I'm the one telling you which will and will not be dropped. In case you're forgetting, I'm the one with authority here."

"You're such a bitch, Trepe," he crossed his arms. He knew that line was getting over-used and before really thinking about it, he muttered something he, for a second at least, wished he never said. "No wonder you're alone."

This was the lowest he had gotten so far. He attacked way below the belt.

She was a bit shocked, this one she recuperated from just as soon as she had the previous one. _Did Seifer really say that? Then I thought a parenchyma was lower than Seifer. _

The answer came almost automatically, concise and foolproof. "That's none of your business."

He gave her an amused look. "Is it, now?"

She almost gritted her teeth. _No, Quistis, you don't have to say anything else, _she thought. Her hands balled into fists. He was giving her an annoying smirk. _Just don't look at him_, she ordered herself. She tried to look away but her grip on self-control was already too loose.

"You know that if I want, I can have as much men as I'd like to my disposal," she said. _That does it, you stupid woman, you gave him way too much room for judgment. He'll think you're... Hyne knows what he'd think._ She mentally slapped herself for such stupidity.

Much to the chagrin of her better judgment, she dug herself in deeper, "At least, I wasn't the one whose romantic dreams include knights, sorceresses and a twisted sense of chivalry. A toddler would have known better…"

Twenty minutes later she would cringe at the thought that she had actually stooped that low, attacking her client exactly where she shouldn't. It was not beneficial that they have shared a part of their childhood together.

"As much men as you like?" he chuckled. "But tell me Quistis, are they really after** you?**" his voice was challenging, his gaze was even more so. His words were full.

She chose not to answer the question though it hit one of her more unstable chords. She was about to let it go when an idea popped into her head. What does Seifer Almasy hate so much? Except for her presence, that is. The know-it-all Quistis! He hates coming off stupid.

"Did you know that the word knight came from the Anglo-Saxon word _cnight_? Those cnights were really useful to their masters and…" she asked trivially.

As predicted, Seifer sighed, "**and your point**?"

"No, nothing really. I just thought you'd want to know that _cnights_ mean nothing more than male servants. Pushed around to work in the house, cleans the estate, waters the plants, in short, slaved around. Mostly with no self-esteem. Useful to their masters, puppets with no strings…" She exaggerated.

His eyes narrowed a bit in response.

"It's a pity, really. You've always dreamt of becoming a servant, and that's exactly what you've been. Had I taken history when I was six, I would have told you sooner, I bet the knowledge could have saved you," she paused. "But then again, maybe not."

"Sorry, that won't get me to flare up, Trepe. I've heard worse insults," he gave her a straight face.

She gave him an informative, if not emotionless, gaze. "That wasn't an insult, Almasy. That was a truth."

* * *

That same day she found her rented car in its worst condition. Not that she thought it could still get worse since it was already beat up and all. Its aesthetic appeal couldn't get poorer but the functionality can. She found that the two front tires were flat. She let out a heavy sigh and cursed under her breath. 

She quickly rolled her sleeves up and opened the trunk. She found the spare tire.

Dammit, only one.

Obviously she won't get anywhere with a flat doughnut. She wondered if she could get the prison guards to help her out. There's gotta be at least one helpful person in there. Hyne, maybe they'll even let her drive one of the police cars. But that should be the last option. The last thing she'd want is to be a damsel in distress. She quickly searched for car tools, which she soon found were non-existent.

_Very smart Trepe, very well-prepared…_

She'd been committing too many errors this week. She wasn't sure if she should blame it on the weather or the fucked-up circumstances…or better yet, on Seifer. She had a good guess, though.

_Who rents a car without checking first if there are tools inside the damned thing?_

She was breathing heavily, arguing with herself over asking for help. Well, not that she could actually change a car's tire…asking for help would really be the best, if not only, option.

Six minutes later she found herself watching a busy guard fix the flat tires. She tried to look grateful to the man, but she can't help sighing from time to time. The guard reminded him of someone. He was going all superman about his skills, telling her unnecessary stories about how he fixed this and that machinery during an emergency and of how he was a field agent before he was a prison guard. She doubted most of his stories were true.

"This is really easy work," he said wiping his sweaty forehead upon changing one of the flat tires. It didn't really quite seem that way when he was trying to get the tire off.

Fifteen minutes later, she was driving the lousy car out the prison confines and making her way down to the nearest town. She was just so glad that she wouldn't have to listen to another lousy lie the guard had in store. She opened the radio and tried to find a working radio station. It was one of those arduous tasks you have to deal with everyday, looking for a station worth your time. Especially now that it was raining so hard outside. The sound of rain hitting metal was deafening to her ears. She was fumbling with the buttons when she heard a whirr and a faint screech.

The car halted. _What now?_ She immediately went out the car to see if she ran over something or if the car had broken apart yet. Thankfully, she didn't see any dead body under the car. She went back to the driver's seat again and started the car.

Whirr, splat, bang!

She took a deep breath. Was that the car or was she imagining that it just broke down and sounded like it had no plans of resuscitating any time soon?

She started the car again.

Whirr, splat, whirr…

A breath escaped her in a soundly gasp. "Dammit!"

Her right hand found its way to her forehead and she tried to ease her tired brain muscles. She stepped out of the car and opened the hood. Maybe something was just loose. She studied the make-up of the specimen she called _car_. She wasn't very familiar with the machine and she cursed herself for not taking any mechanics classes involving cars. She went to the back, opened the trunk and took the few tools she borrowed from the guard. She pretended she knew what she was doing and started tightening bolts. Although she was moving as quickly as she can, she was soaking wet in no time.

She went back to the driver's seat and started the car. Nothing. No sound this time.

She sighed and went back to the front. She started to tinker with whatever she can tinker with. Hyne, she never wished for a perfect life but this one was getting way too imperfect for her liking.

She started the car again, but nothing happened. Her patience was soon a very thin line and she started kicking the pile of junk she was stuck with. Why did it have to happen now when she was miles away from the town and a several hundred kilometers away from the prison site. Her hands were greasy, her face was wet with sweat and rain and the weather was just not cooperating. After a few hundred curse words and a few more kicks to the car she gave up and stayed inside. If a monster would strike now, she knew she'd explode in frenzy.

She reached out for her phone. Damn, no signal.

It was extremely cold, even inside. She tried to close the front windows which she has just pried open that morning since the AC had broken down. The car dealer surely had never heard of automatic windows. That morning, she had found herself manually opening each of the four windows with as much strength as she would need to kill a T-rexaur. She was able to open the right side windows but the ones on the left side were jammed halfway. She gave up on that. Now that she needed all the windows closed, they've all jammed up as well. To join in the string of extremely unfortunate events, the radio couldn't receive anything but static. She cursed yet again.

It was already getting dark when the radio got some hold on a frequency. The outcome was muffled but it shed her some hope that maybe the hellhole does have a tunnel leading up. She turned the radio knob and soon she can hear the DJ clearly.

"coming to a halt. Rejoice everyone. It's your lucky day!" the voice was jovial. Perhaps purposely trying to suck the last ounce of sanity off her. Then the last song she wanted to hear played.

_Happy! Sha la la la! It's so nice to be happy!_

There she was, miles away from civilization, soaking wet and dead cold inside a pile of overpriced junk, tired, petulant and pushed way over the edge. She decided, it **_was not_** her lucky day.

* * *

He was laying on his bed when the thought of her invaded. _How was she doing?_ Not really the caring thought of anything romantic or the sort, but rather he thought of how she fared with the flat tire. Perhaps she was already home by now. 

He sat up and peeked outside through the opening that served as his window. It was hazy outside, it was almost dark. He squinted a bit and noticed the slight formation of thin parallel lines.

Rain.

It was raining outside.

_She really **should ** be home by now._

_

* * *

_

She sneezed for the nth time that night. It, obviously, wasn't a good day. She had spent two hours and a half inside her car, through the pouring rain with windows open. Misfortunes never cease to come, like waves lapping on the shore. They'd come one after the other.

She tried to get a comfortable position on the bed. She had just closed her eyes when the phone rang. Her hand involuntarily searched for her cellphone, which she would soon find to be on the edge of her night table. The gadget crashed with a loud thump.

Damn.

She searched for the remains of her phone in the dark and quickly assembled it with blind precision. She turned it on and soon it was ringing again.

"Hello," her voice was gruff.

"Are you okay, Quis?" the voice on the other line belonged to William.

She sneezed as if in response. "Not really," she paused for a second and started explaining. "Got stuck in the rain with that lousy car I rented. The damned thing broke down and I was stuck there for more than a couple of hours."

"Sad to hear that…" he sounded concerned.

"Well, what was I expecting?"

"Can't wait to go back?" he asked in a lighter tone.

"Yes." It was the only logical answer.

"Then you'll love this. I got Cid to pull you out for three days." He sounded excited.

Was that supposed to be good news? What will she do with those three days? Erm, except to rest, which she decided she badly needed. Three days of rest would mean three days of lag and she knew she couldn't afford to do that. Well, that is if she was expecting to live to see the end of this mission. "Why? What's going on?"

"Well, Quistis…" he started in an all too familiar tone.

"Oh my God! You got the promotion!" she almost screamed in delight.

"Yes, you're talking to the new assistant director of Balamb Continent," he was proud of his new job. His hard work had all paid off. "Mr. Denali insisted on holding a party for my promotion. I won't let you miss it for the world."

"I won't."

"You could also use some rest, I'll make sure Doc Kadowaki will have you at your best in no time."

"William…" there was a distinct change in her voice. She sounded serious and contemplative. "The wedding…"

His voice changed too. "It's going to happen. Not just as soon as we expected." He's going to be busy with his new job, he can't afford to disappoint Mr. Denali now.

She sighed. "I understand."

All for the job, always for the job.

* * *

They'd been quiet for a good fourteen minutes. It was a record. She wished she had a recorder to tape the fourteen minutes of heaven. He'd been thinking for the last ten minutes. The payback for the fall proved to have had gone way out of hand. He had only asked a prison mate who was set for release that day to leave a tire flat so she'd go through all the trouble of changing it. Something he knew, or rather he wished, she didn't know how to do. He never read about it in any SeeD manuals and textbook she surely had been reading. Giving her the task was worth a try. 

He never asked him to mess with the insides of the automobile. It was stupid to do so, not to mention very dangerous. It was a good thing she wasn't stuck very near a forest where a dangerous monster could have attacked. She told him she spent the next few hours trying to get the windows to close but the thing was jammed. She was soaked and as he could see very clearly now, she was sick.

"I should have expected that car would break down…" she muttered.

"What was that?" he asked. The fourteen minute and twenty-six second record was over.

"Nothing." She sneezed again and wiped her nose with a tissue paper. Her constant wiping had her nose turning to a crimson shade. Aside from the red nose, puffy eyes and reddened cheekbones, she was pale white.

_She really must be sick_, he thought.

He wondered if he should tell her that it was his fault that her tires had gone flat and that it was also probably his fault she was sick now. She soon found that it was like contemplating suicide. A few seconds later, he decided that he loved his life too much to confess.

She sneezed again, he stared. Obviously, she wasn't in the mood to talk or to ask any questions. She didn't seem like she wanted to accomplish anything for the day since she didn't bring her bag of files. She brought herself, loads of tissue papers, her cellphone and her whip.

"Don't stare at me," she snapped after a while upon realizing that he was staring.

"You look fucked."

"Thank you," she said sarcastically.

"Tell me what I'm doing here," he asked.

"Everyday meetings, remember?" her voice broke. He felt the urge to laugh but decided not to.

"And?"

She let out a sigh. "This is your three hours of rest."

"The catch?" he asked. Why would Trepe give him three hours of fine time without the cuffs in an air conditioned room with a bonus of as much coffee as he likes without planning something extremely grievous? _Hyne, does she already know I'm responsible?_

"No catch." She said. "I'm feeling too unwell I'm starting to think kind thoughts."

She sneezed yet again.

She started to rest her head over her arms, neatly folded atop the table. She sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. Her mouth parted slightly to make room for breathing. He could see the top of her blonde head and noticed that her warm breath was condensing to moisture.

He felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn't be going all nice on him, she shouldn't even be this quiet around him. This wasn't Quistis, and this wasn't the meeting he went here for. He was expecting the everyday turn-out of events wherein they'd irritate the hell out of each other. Honestly, a few minutes ago, he was excited over laughing at her misfortune of finding the flat tires. He was excited to tell her it was his fault and that it's what she gets for messing with him. Elementary move, but funny nonetheless…he thought then.

Now, it wasn't funny anymore. She's sick, Hyne knows what else would have happened because of his _payback_.

"I'd be out for three to four days," she said after a while.

He chuckled. So that was the catch. Three hours of rest in exchange for 12 hours of meeting. Not a bad deal, really. At least there would be no annoying Quistis to torment him. "I think I'm starting to believe there's a Hyne."

"Hmmm…" was her only answer.

"Are you cold?" he asked, noticing that she was shivering a bit.

"I'm fine…" her voice was soft. She was still resting her head on the table.

She took off her glasses in an effort to take a more comfortable position when Seifer took her spectacles off the table with one quick movement. Her palm landed on the wood, her movement was fast but her hand wasn't able to catch Seifer's.

She raised her head a bit to look at him. He was smirking, "was a thief for some time." He sounded proud of what he said.

"Hn."

He played with her glasses for a while before he wore it over his eyes. "You can actually see through this?" he asked. He immediately took off the headache-causing glasses and looked at it at arm's distance.

He noticed that it was a bit foggy. He wiped the lens with his finger and ended up making a stain of white blotches. He pressed it near his clothes and started wiping the lens with standard prison cloth. The stain wouldn't come out, so he wiped harder.

She looked at what he was doing through dizzy slits and sighed. "You're going to break it."

He continued wiping. His movements were rough and he was too intent on trying to get the lens to clear up he didn't realize he had been crushing the wire.

"You're breaking it," she said, standing up and reaching for her glasses.

"No, I'm not…" he evaded her attempt to recover her belonging.

"You're crushing it," she said. She had not the strength to let out a stern voice.

"I'm just trying to get the—" with a flop, one of the lens popped out into the carpet.

He looked at her like a child waiting for her to lash out. She raised an eyebrow.

"I guess I was wiping too hard."

"Yes, you were." She nodded. She liked the innocent look Seifer gave her that second. It made him seem more…human.

He went on all fours to retrieve the lens under the table. He was having a hard time looking for it when he heard a crack. He had kneeled on it. Another pang of guilt, stronger this time, had struck him. She was sick, he broke her glasses and he had just crushed the lens. Perfect way to say I'm sorry.

He stood up immediately and looked at the lens in his hand. It was still in one piece, but it was cracked in the middle. A white line where the glass broke due to the pressure was placed strategically across the middle. He handed her back her glasses and the broken lens. She looked at it mournfully.

"Thank Hyne, I'm not in the mood," she said. Her head felt heavy and her eyes felt like they were on fire. She'd want nothing more than to be able to take some rest for the moment.

Okay, so Quistis was being too kind. He was expecting her to take her whip out and hurt him for being too careless and inconsiderate. So, maybe Quistis also has a good side. Why can't she be like this most of the time?

"Your glasses fogged up," he said as he touched her forehead to check her temperature. The gesture he just did reminded him of when they were kids: one time when he was sick, she came to his bed to touch his forehead just to check if he was too sick to hunt for some crab. His temperature then reached a hundred and one, but still he let her talk him into hunting. He would remember vomiting all over her shoes on the way back to the orphanage that day. He couldn't recall what actually happened next.

"Hn."

"What am I gonna do now?" he asked. Obviously, destroying any more of her properties was out of the choices. Annoying her didn't seem to be a good idea too.

"I'm going to try to sleep, do whatever, Seifer," she said. She raised one finger and narrowed her eyes at him. "Just don't mess with me." It was a warning. She folded her arms on top of the table again and tried to take a nap. Had she looked at him, she would find him laughing softly upon recalling some of their not-so-innocent childhood experiences.

Twenty-seven minutes later, when he was already too bored and in the brink of falling asleep in the same position as she was, he would ask a question he couldn't decide whether it was very smart or very stupid. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?" she asked innocently, not even making an effort to look at him.

"This. You're going to get in trouble for helping me out." It was the most innocent yet most puzzling conversation they would share yet.

"I'm in deep shit, either way."

"So, why are you doing this, then?" he asked, sleepily.

She let out a sigh. "For old time's sake…I don't know, really."

Had she looked at him, she would have seen an evident change in his expression. She heard him laugh before she fell completely asleep. Eight minutes later she would wake up and find herself alone in the room.

* * *

A million thanks to **invisiblesplotch, Alonia Everclear, Feenie, Tony, Mintaka1, Selphie Fan, carllah, FloralBlackMoon, Neko-Yuff16, Hikari Heijin** and everyone who reviewed. 

And yup, Selphie Fan, Quistis isn't the type to leave a fiancé even for Seifer. But I already have some ideas on how I'll work out the plot for the two of them. )

And please leave a review. tell me what i need to improve. thanks!


	6. The Dangerous Way Home

This chapter is horrendously late and short. I'm so sorry for that. I promise I'll make it up. I felt that I really had to update, and well this is what I had produced so far. I'm really sorry, the next chapter would be longer and better, that's a promise. Thanks for all the reviews and thanks guys for reviewing every chapter. Love ya, guys!

**Disclaimer: **FF8 nor any characters within this fic isn't mine…well save for William who I'll gladly make into a real person the moment the blue fairy dropped by.

**Chapter 6: The Dangerous Way Home**

_Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself, _

_and covered with a perfect shell, _

_such a charming beautiful exterior. _

_Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes _

_and perfect posture but you're barely scraping by, _

_but you're barely scraping by._

Places You Have Come to Fear the Most, Dashboard Confessional

* * *

Perhaps she didn't understand the whole situation. Perhaps she had no idea of how deep she had dug herself into the core of his rotten, Janus-faced world. Perhaps she was stupid, perhaps she didn't care. 

What was one criminal's excuse for a life as compared to hers? Hers was promising, beautiful, blossoming. Was it worth it? Perhaps she will never know.

Compassion had never been one of his virtues, and he will not start today. In his world, the moment you go lax, you'd get stepped on, beaten up, buried underneath all the lies, deceit and dishonesty that runs his world. She was only doing her job, but then again…it was his job to do this.

"Take care of it," he ordered. His voice was cold, emotionless and dry.

The other man nodded, crisp black suit creasing to give way for the stiff movement. He fixed his metal-rimmed glasses and looked at the other man sternly. "Failure had never been an option. It still isn't." He let out a heavy sigh and stared intently at the file in front of him. Another casualty of a much more serious war…too bad they never met.

_Quistis Trepe…It would have been a pleasure._

_

* * *

_

Quistis placed the lens back to its rightful place and looked at her handiwork. She reminded herself to berate Seifer for it the moment she gets back. She wore her glasses and noted how hard it was to see through the broken glass without seeing double. This would surely give her a headache afterwards. She turned the ignition key and stepped on the gas.

Maybe she really needed the rest. Hyne knows how hard it was for her to get Seifer to talk. Or shut up for that matter. She had been scanning every law book she had borrowed from the library in an effort to find a paragraph that would favor her client. She would be happy to find a sentence that does…or even a clause. Two weeks and still she felt like she was right where she started.

She didn't know why he resented her help. She couldn't figure out why he was being stubborn. He would never open up to her. Did he think that by not telling her the truth, it would change the way that she sees him?

She, of all people, knows what he was capable of. She has an idea just how much crimes he had done yet…or will do, just in case she manages to pull it off and let him live. Personally, she thinks he should be detained for life. It's harsher a punishment than death itself. Death is the privilege everyone had been granted. Death, sometimes, is the best thing that would ever happen to a person. Why give him just that when he can rot in a cell, staring out through a window recalling just how much he had fucked life up? It's not like he didn't deserve it.

_Okay, Quistis Trepe, calm down. You're letting your emotions take over again. _

An inner (much hated) voice was telling her that life was valuable, even that of Seifer's. She couldn't get it why conscience had such tremendous effects on her. Perhaps, that's why everybody finds her boring. She couldn't do anything that would go against _the_ principles. What runs through her mind…well, that's a different thing.

So why was she doing this, he asked. She now had the answer. It was a challenge. Getting through this would be like stopping the inevitable, like resenting fate, like stopping change, like preventing a calamity, having so much power. Yes, her reasons were selfish. After everything he had done to her and her friends, she believed it's only fair.

_I should have told him that, s_he thought. _I would have loved the expression on his face._

She turned right on the road, squinting a bit in an attempt to see better. Why did she hate Seifer so much? She doesn't really know the answer. Well, he tried to kill her, for one. And her friends too. He never had any kind words for her. He resented her as an instructor, and the case had never changed. He was basically being Seifer…but that's not enough reason to hate him so much. He's just troubled after all.

_At least, he never told me to go talk to a wall when I was feeling way down._

_At least, he hates me too…that's better than being ignored._

_At least, he does feel. _

She took in a deep breath. She could never think of Seifer without thinking of Squall. Squall and her wasted three years. She tried to push the thoughts off her head. She's just so glad that for a few days, she can go back where everything's in order. Where she can stop worrying about the case. Where the orderly life she had worked so hard to achieve is. She's just so glad she's going home.

A bump on the road caused her cracked lens to pop out of the frame. She cursed in ancient tongue and leaned down, extending her hand towards the floor of the car.

_Where the fuck is it?_

Slender fingers searched through the floor of the automobile while her other hand was clasped tightly around the steering wheel. Her lips twisted into a frown. She let out a sigh and soon her head joined in the searching. Her foot was stepping on the gas in a regulated manner, her other hand was keeping the wheel steady. Thank God for her unusual flexibility. Nobody uses this road anyway, this should be safe.

Her eyes were met by 3 unassuming pedals and a guilty set of multi-colored wires. Her frontal lobe started to function.

Set of wires…should not be here.

Digit pad…indicates a bomb.

Bomb…not good.

Her reflexes got the better of her and the car halted in a flash. Her eyes widened as red light flashed, indicating a very hateful number.

5…4…

Fuck.

* * *

Zell had been staring at the television for the last four hours. Buttercup, Bubbles and Blossom had managed to save the world seven times. The man in the suede shoes beside him was intent on finishing the seven hour marathon. 

"What happened to the wrestling matches? To the porn shows?" Zell asked almost tearfully, holding Irvine by the collar and shaking him violently.

Irvine just shrugged him off and shook his head. "I'm a changed man. I don't want to see another shaking booty again if it doesn't belong to my beloved Selphie."

Zell's face distorted at the thought. "Get a hold of yourself, man. Just because she didn't say goodbye before she went to a mission doesn't mean you have to force yourself to watch the powerpuff girls!"

"It reminds me of her. Makes the pain less painful," Irvine told him.

He composed himself in the couch before he proceeded on thinking of a way to get Irvine to stop. He wouldn't take this, he wouldn't just sit there and miss his favorite show to three little nitwits who had nothing better to do than to save the freakin' old day. He has to figure out where Irvine's hiding the remote…and quick, before he loses his mind.

Irvine went on with telling on how much he must have sucked, what he might have done wrong that caused her to go away for a whole week without even telling him. He had a list of mistakes and Zell was too focused on his own selfish mission to really care.

Zell, obviously, had never been the patient one…nor the smartest one for that matter. Two minutes later, he had Irvine by the collar again and was threatening to do a _My Final Heaven_. Irvine was far from fearful. He would accept whatever punishment would serve him right. Zell was quick to search his coat only to find that the remote wasn't there.

Three minutes more and the martial artist had given up. Where had he been hiding that remote anyway? Just because he was heartbroken and all didn't mean he had to monopolize the TV set in the SeeD common room. This wasn't how Zell wanted to spend a lazy day off.

"That's it, I'm going…" Zell threw both hands up in the air.

"Hey, what happened to friends helping each other out?" Irvine asked, blocking Zell's way.

"You need a psychiatrist…" he said.

"I need a love doctor…a makeshift therapist would do," Irvine sighed.

Zell noticed it then that Irvine's cowboy hat was slung carelessly on top of his head, his usually neat ponytail, messed up in spikes. Irvine was thoroughly vain, so this could only mean that he's really emotionally unstable right now. Either that or—

_Trying won't hurt, I guess._

Zell was quick to pull the cowboy's hat off and was also quick to grab his prize. There on top of Irvine's head was the coolest invention ever—the remote control. Zell immediately took his position, the one wherein an outstretched functional arm was directed towards the television and strong fingers did the pushing of buttons. The moment he was able to switch channels, Irvine tackled him on the floor and both SeeDs found themselves rolling on the floor, vying for the remote.

The black thing jumped off one's hand (neither could tell whom the hand belonged to anymore) and landed on the floor. Irvine quickly pushed Zell off and crawled towards his remote when he saw two familiar-looking legs in front of him. He looked up and immediately, the rainbow appeared and the birds started to chirp.

"Selphie!"

Selphie was all smiles. "I thought Squall was here…" she said.

"He left half an hour ago," Zell was quick to reply. Well, Irvine was still in the state of shock. He never knew bunnies could sing.

"'kay!" With that, the pair of legs started skipping away.

"Noooo!" Irvine tearfully screamed.

He immediately turned to look at Zell who just gave him an innocent shrug. He soon found himself pining after his lady love.

Zell, on the other hand, was too happy to care.

* * *

She gripped her left wrist tightly and let her muscles and tendons do their work. She had twisted her left wrist while trying to get out of the vehicle just in time before it fried her or blasted her to gazillion pieces. She took the other way to the train station, also known as the harder, longer way wherein she had to fight monsters just to get her way through. Whoever planted a bomb there had his motives. She wouldn't let herself fall that fast without knowing the enemy. She had worked her brain through trying to think of how and why she made new enemies without even knowing it. Or perhaps, it's connected with her new mission of representing Seifer. 

If that was it…why would anyone bother about one fallen dreamer? Surely, he wasn't worth gold nor ivory.

But then again, there could be no other reason.

Seifer _equals_ trouble. She should have known better.

She fixed her hair the best that she can and alighted the water vehicle. She was greeted by familiar voices in the Garden dock. She walked with memorized and synchronized movements. She was practically blind without her glasses and could only trust the many years she had walked the dock to be able to walk through. With enough luck, they wouldn't notice.

"Nice to see you again, Miss Trepe," she was greeted by a fellow SeeD. "How was the ride?"

She did her best to let out a courteous smile even though her head was throbbing with pain. "You know how it is, I liked it better when Garden was rooted to the ground."

He let out a small laugh. The man then noticed her lack of mission accessories. "Your bag, miss Trepe?"

"No bag."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Would you like me to inform the commander of your arrival or would you rather that you have a good night's sleep first?"

"I'd like to talk to Squall immediately."

* * *

"We were expecting you five hours ago," Squall said the moment she got through the door. "We weren't able to contact you…at all. I assume you have reasons." 

She stood up a distance away from his desk and thought of just how much information Squall was able to gather within those five hours. Knowing Squall, he would have already known that she didn't go back to her hotel to get her things.

"Someone tried to kill me." Her answer was direct, short and sweet.

"Don't they always?" he sighed. "How?"

"A bomb in my car."

"Do you have any idea who they are?" Squall asked.

She shook her head. "I would like to delve into this matter the moment I get back to Centra."

"You can drop this mission anytime you like," Squall said monotonously.

She immediately felt the urge to drive the leg of the chair beside her through his skull. How can he say such a wonderful thing at such a wrong time? Where were those words three weeks ago when she would have given everything for the option to not do the mission.

"Why?" she managed to ask calmly.

"The council doesn't want you there. They asked me to pull you out but I'm giving you the option."

She was silent for a while. They both stared.

"You can think it over. See me the moment you decide."

She weighed out her options. Obviously, her state of sickness and blindness wasn't conducive for deciding. She let out a sigh.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

"I would submit a detailed and formal report first thing in the morning," she said, obviously still being the professional workaholic that she is.

He nodded. "Anything else?"

"Nothing really."

"Fall out." He ordered.

She made a salute and turned to leave. She had just opened the door when Squall called her by her first name. She turned her head.

"Forget the report tomorrow. You can submit that anytime before you leave. Get as much sleep as you need…" he said. "You look terrible."

She made a half smile. "Thank you, Squall."

She left the office, thinking that what he had just said was perhaps the sweetest thing he had ever told her, or ever will, in this lifetime.

* * *

She made her way to the elevator like a blind woman, extending her arms forward, feeling everything in front of her with her palms. It was perhaps about ten in the evening, the floor was already on lights-out save for Squall's office. She wasn't really the only workaholic in Garden. Her eyes were giving her the worst time. She could feel her head breaking in two and her guts making a protest just below her throat. 

She almost stumbled in, the moment the elevator doors opened. She quickly pressed the elevator button and rested her head on the wall. She felt ready to explode any second.

"kk…Quisty?"

She turned to the direction where the voice was coming from. She noticed then that she wasn't alone in the elevator. Slouched near the door was another person, hair sprawled all over his face, reeking of alcohol, with blood in his hands.

Wait…blood in his hands! Alarm began to shoot up her spine, alerting her in a second.

"Quisty, help me," he managed to say before he retched what could only be, she assumed, dinner.

She tried to focus her eyes as much as she can, causing the turmoil within her head to intensify. Brown hair, brown coat...

"Irvine?"

* * *

Please leave a review. Thanks! 


	7. Visions

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these.

**A/N: **Wait, I can explain! My computer has just recently recovered from a 2-month coma. Most of my files are now floating in the memory world as ghosts. That includes the first half of the 7th chapter of _Where Water Meets Earth_. I had to rewrite it again. If you're asking why it took so long for me to post this, we could all blame whoever invented "college degree".

There are some things in this chapter that would not make sense right now, but in the next few chapters, it would clear up a bit.

Please do leave a review.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Visions**

Every now and again sometimes  
I get lost on the wind of a dream  
The air gets clean and the seas get wider  
and I can do anything  
The pain it won't even cross my mind  
But there's wonder in everything  
The rope gets loose and the chains unbind  
and I can do anything

--Anything, MAE

* * *

Quistis almost choked on the taste of copper that immediately invaded. She couldn't see clearly but she was sure that it was her friend lying on the elevator floor, bleeding. She leaned forward and attended to him. 

"Irvine, what happened?" she asked worriedly.

"Everything's spinning. Help me," he managed to say, closing his tired eyes and resting his head on the elevator wall.

His breath provided more than the confirmation she needed that he indeed was terribly drunk. Damn the Galbadain's alcohol-downing ways. Relying on her sense of touch, she checked if the blood was his.

"You have to tell me what happened," she demanded.

"Accident."

Irvine didn't wince at all when she pressed on what she guessed were his wounds. The alcohol, obviously had desensitized him.

"This is your blood," she said factually and with the sheer confidence provided by the numerous years she had spent perfecting minor medical procedures. She could easily tell that his cut was created by a sharp uneven edge, probably a crude knife or broken glass.

"Accident…hic," he repeated. The elevator door opened but was purposely ignored.

"Accident? With who?" her voice was getting louder every second, laced by worry and frustration.

He laughed. "With a bottle. Geez, I didn't kill anybody." He looked at Quistis who also seemed to be spinning. "Well, that's probably a lie, you know?"

Accident with a bottle…of liquor perhaps? This totally rules out the prospect of treatment in the infirmary. She wouldn't really want tomorrow's gossips to center on the sharpshooter's less than exemplary SeeD behavior.

She pressed part of his coat onto the wound to stop the bleeding. "Where?" she asked. He must have left traces of blood, which would most likely arouse suspicion.

It took him five seconds to answer. "Ss—Secret…"

"I'm not kidding here, Irvine Kinneas!"

"Secret area. Training center. I can't find my room, I can't even walk straight. You have to help me, Quisty!"

She stood up, steadying herself by holding on to the walls. She pressed the dorm floor button and waited for the doors to open. She helped him up, taking his arm and wrapping it around her shoulder. Her tired body helped support his weight.

"So you see, I didn't really break the damned thing--" he started explaining as they walked. "It was more like it broke by itself. I was in the, hic, secret area and the bottle dropped and—"

She noted that it would be better if Irvine would just shut up. She didn't really need to smell the alcohol in his breath or to hear the heavy, pounding sound of his voice. He proceeded on mumbling something about just trying to clean up the mess because if he didn't, Squall would surely get his ass.

"Irvine, please you need to be quiet," she said. She wasn't relying on what she could see (or what she couldn't see, for that matter) to get to where she was planning to go. Starting from the elevator, she was only acting on instinct and intuition.

They have just turned on a corner when Irvine spoke again. "Quistis, you're hot."

"You're drunk," Quistis told him. She couldn't' believe just up to what extent liquor can confuse people. Irvine hitting on her was, for her, incest. But then again, Irvine hits on everyone with a pair of swollen chest.

He started laughing hysterically. She had to sock his mouth with part of his coat to get him to shut up. A few minutes later, she let go of his arm and Irvine fell ungracefully on the floor, forming an unsightly heap.

"Aww!" he complained.

She didn't mind him. She knocked on a familiar door, hoping that the occupant was still awake. She'd be damned otherwise. The head-splitting pain in her head and the protesting of the rest of her body made her tearful despite herself. She had been through worse physical pain…after all, the war had caused her dozens of stitches and a few broken bones…but the pain she was feeling now was totally uncalled for. There was no need for her to be stuck in the rain or for her glasses to be broken, or for her car to blow up—or for bleeding, drunk Irvine to show up just when she was about ready to pass out.

She was ready to collapse any second now.

With much effort, she knocked again. She heard rustling on the other side of the door. The door yanked open, revealing a half-naked, fully-surprised William.

Upon opening the door, William immediately became aware of three things at once. One was that Quistis had arrived at Garden; two was that she looked terribly sick and has traces of blood on her face and clothes; and lastly, that she still has the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

Seeing him made her smile. It was more because of the comfort of seeing someone trusted and familiar than anything else. Before he had any time to react, her eyes forced themselves closed and she toppled over.

He was quick to catch her and worry, a second after. He immediately placed her atop the bed and checked if she was injured.

"Irvine…" she had just enough strength to say one more word before her body forcefully went on a shut down.

* * *

"She's awake!" The cheerful voice caused her to grunt. 

"Booyaka, she's still alive!" She immediately recognized that voice.

"Hey, what did I tell you?"

"You have no right to butt in!" Selphie's voice seemed more distant now. The next thing Quistis heard was the sound of a boot hitting flesh and Irvine crying out for help.

Her head was still woozy and the last person she needed to see was right there in front of her when she opened her eyes. The raven-haired girl put out her fingers. "How many?" she asked.

Quistis could see four eyes, two heads and four fingers. If she squinted she could see less. Armed with the knowledge that Rinoa originally has only one head, she decided that the girl was holding up just two fingers. "Two," she answered.

"Alrighty!. Can you sit up?"

"Where am I?" Quistis asked, sitting up and receiving help from Rinoa.

"William's room. He said you passed out," Rin answered.

Then a fluff of yellow appeared out of nowhere and jumped onto the bed. The cushion bounced almost violently a couple of times. Quistis decided that the bed moving wasn't one of the things she needed at the moment, either.

"You saved this doofus over here from bleeding to death," Selphie said pointing at the heap of brown at the corner of the room.

"I wasn't bleeding to death. It was just my hand…" Irvine corrected Selphie. "And by the way, thanks a lot Quis. Squall would have killed me if not for your help."

Irvine. Bleeding. She can remember that part of her unfortunately eventful day.

"Doc Kadowaki would be here in a few minutes. She's quite busy administering the tests on the freshies, you see," Rinoa said. She gave Quistis a pill. "Take this."

Quistis complied. She was sure that Rinoa would not poison her. Rin also didn't seem like the person to hand out E's, so she's safe.

"Where's Will?" she asked.

"He's out…fixing his new office. He told me to take care of you. The party's tonight and we still have lots to do," Rinoa answered.

Selphie got off the bed and picked up a box from a chair. "He gave you this, see?" She opened the box and took out a sparkling black gown.

Quistis squinted a bit. The two girls looked at her like they were expecting her to jump up and down or to do a gigantic _awww_ She looked back at them, "erm…pretty?"

"The moment you're feeling fine, we're off to the first stop," Selphie said cheerfully.

"How I wish I could come…" Rinoa thought out loud.

Quistis was puzzled. "You mean you're not invited?" She was ready to give William a beating if her friend said yes.

"I was…but, you know the situation…" Rinoa said sadly.

"What situation?" Quistis asked quizzically.

"Lots of politicians are gonna be there. Some members of the World Council will be there too. They hate me, you know that."

Quistis immediately understood. The World Council greatly disapproves of the sorceress and in order to perhaps save Garden for a little while longer from the deadly vision of the Council, she's not going to the party.

"Don't worry, the others are gonna be there," Rinoa faked a smile.

"Don't worry, Rin, I'll keep an eye on the Commander and make sure to keep the rich, spoiled and wanton politicians' daughters off him," Selphie said as if trying to console the raven-haired girl.

"Please do…" Rinoa sighed.

"Can I get some private time before we go to the first stop?" Quistis asked Selphie.

"Why, watcha gonna do, Quis?"

"I've got to do something very important."

"What could be more important than preparing for this party? It's for the love of your life!" It was very Rinoa to say that.

"You speak as if it's my wedding day," Quistis said monotonously.

"This could be it!" Selphie got some rather weird ideas. "He could be lying about his promotion and it's just his way to get you guys hitched immediately."

Irvine interrupted, "I highly doubt that."

"How would you know?" Selphie narrowed her eyes at him.

"A guy like William wouldn't do such a thing. He's just not---"

Quistis waited for the finish. Irvine looked at her uneasily. "He's just not?"

"He's just not, um, spontaneous enough."

Oddly enough, this caused a little flare of anger to build up inside Quistis. "And you're supposed to be spontaneous?"

"Everything lovely in one package," Irvine tipped his hat.

"I'd say impulsive," Rinoa said.

"Impetuous," Quistis crossed her arms.

"Hey, I'm not looking for a fight, Quis. I'm just saying that—"

An eyebrow quirked.

"I'm not saying anything."

The eyebrow relaxed.

Quistis then remembered the incident last night. "Why were you drinking last night, anyway?'

"Because he's stupid," Selphie butted in.

Rinoa tried to hide her laughter. Irvine looked at Rinoa and shook his head. "You see, it's a man's initial reaction to…" he tried to explain.

"He got jealous of Squall!" Rinoa didn't let him finish his graceful introduction and immediately cut to the chase. She laughed afterwards.

Selphie started laughing too. If Quistis wasn't sick, she would have laughed hysterically too. "Why would he be jealous of Squall?" she enquired.

"She went to a mission and was gone for a week. Squall was out for four days, doing business. Selphie got back and spent the entire day in Squall's office. He did some math and thought they were cheating," Rinoa told Quistis, then started laughing again.

"I swear I really heard some weird noises from his office," Irvine said for his part.

"And you were where? In a dust chute!" Selphie couldn't stop laughing.

"You spied on them?" Quistis could hardly believe it. Squall and Selphie doesn't go together…just like Squall and Quistis doesn't, she thought.

The cowboy shrugged. "I wasn't thinking."

"Well, come to think of it, Squall can be terribly cute," Selphie said suggestively. "And he's got a really buff body and a cute butt."

Irvine narrowed his eyes. Selphie waved him off as she started laughing again.

Quistis would have loved to hear every detail of it but remembered her report. They could always talk about it later. "I have to write my report, I'll let you guys know when I'm through," Quistis said getting up. She was making her way to the door when she accidentally bumped into a table and sent the things on top crashing on the floor. She followed suit.

Irvine was quick to help her get up. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I just…" she dusted off her arms and clothes. "I just didn't see it." She put on a smile to cover the embarrassment she felt for acting stupidly in front of her friends.

"Can you walk to your room?" Rinoa asked worriedly.

"This is all your fault, Irvine Kinneas!" Selphie shoved Irvine away from Quistis and held on to her.

"I'll take her there," Selphie offered. Quistis protested, not being used to being helped, but Selphie insisted. They walked out the door, leaving Rinoa and Irvine. Selphie glared at the cowboy and mouthed threats before she closed the door behind her.

"Do you think I'm dead?" Irvine asked Rinoa.

"I think worse."

* * *

_Seifer…_

_Seifer…_

_Where are you, Seifer?_

_Seifer immediately recognized the voice. Without second thought, he fell on the floor and covered his ears, blocking out the haunting sound. He closed his eyes like a fearful child. _

"_I don't hear…I don't hear…" he chanted quietly to himself._

_The footsteps became louder, stalking his direction. "Seifer…" He heard the door creak open. He stopped breathing and suddenly wished he could vaporize._

"_There you are…"_

_He opened his eyes and saw two black shoes and the edge of a long skirt. He looked up and saw her staring down at him, offering a hand, smiling like a caring mother. "Come," she said._

"_You're not real…" Seifer mouthed. He quickly searched the room for his hyperion and saw that it was nowhere in sight. _

"_Why not?" Matron asked._

"_I won't be your slave again. I won't do anything for you again."_

"_Are you proud of what you did? Do you think it's right?"_

"_No…"_

"_Then you should say sorry," Matron said casually. _

"_To whom? To you? No way in hell…"_

"_It's not proper to do that. Don't you like to be proud of yourself? Don't you like to make me proud?" She ran a hand through his hair._

"_Damn you…"_

_She smiled and stood up. "Come now," she ordered. She turned around and made her way to the door. Seifer kept still. Then suddenly, a fluff of black and grey covered his vision and he saw a little blonde boy running after Matron. He left the door open. Seifer's hands immediately ran through his chest. That kid…_

"_No, don't!" He immediately stood up and ran towards the door. He had to save the little kid, he has no idea what he's getting into. He skidded to a halt when he saw Matron, the blonde young boy and a brown-haired kid talking just outside the room. _

"_Now, promise him you'll never do it again," Matron told the blonde._

_The blue eyed kid had his mouth pursed. He stared blankly. The blonde had a proud gaze. "I won't set fire on your hand again," the blonde said, smirking. _

"_Or any part of him," Matron told the kid._

"_But…" the blonde protested. Matron looked at him as if pleading. "Okay…I won't set fire on you," he said, defeated. _

"_That's better," Matron patted his shoulder._

_The blue eyed kid was still silent._

"_Can I go now?" Little Seifer asked. Matron nodded. The two boys ran towards another door while Matron went the other way. Seifer followed the two little men. _

_He was welcomed by the sight of the beach. It was as blue as he can remember it to be. He could hear the chatter of the kids. He quietly walked down the stairs and saw what the kids were up to. _

_Selphie was still making her castle. She's still planning on making a huge sand castle where she could fit. Irvine was slaving around, doing as she bids. Zell was working on the castle with them._

_Squall was sitting beside Ellone. The two were quiet, as if they could communicate without words. They were both deep in thought. _

_A blonde girl was picking up twigs along the shore. She had her hands full. _

_He looked for the young Seifer and noticed that he was nowhere to be found. _

'_Where did I go?'_

_He looked around and walked over to where the three kids were building their sand castle. Kids…even as a kid, Selphie was a dreamer. He shook his head as a smirk developed in his lips. He kicked their sandcastle just for the hell of it. _

_Surprisingly, it crumbled under his foot. Even Seifer was surprised. Wasn't he supposed to be just a spectator? Theoretically, his foot would just pass through. Wasn't this supposed to be another one of his nightmares?_

_He came face to face with three angry kids. He could feel the innocent rage building inside them. He crossed his arms. _

'_Huh, what can they do to me?' He had a cocky grin plastered on his face._

_The kids started running towards his direction and started passing through him. He immediately turned around and saw little Seifer being chased by the three children. Little Seifer was fast, even Zell who was a good sprinter wasn't able to catch him. Irvine was the first to give up. He stopped running, panted and held on to his chest. Zell chased Seifer until the bully was able to climb up a tree. Selphie started throwing stones up at him and complaining about her ruined work. _

_Seifer couldn't stop laughing. Both the kid and the grown one. Seifer walked over to them to get a close glimpse at the reactions of the little chicken-wuss and messenger girl. He laughed hysterically. He missed tormenting them. _

_Zell and Selphie had already left when Quistis went near the tree. Her hair was a messy pony tail and had sand all over her pants. She had her twigs in hand; she looked angry. Come to think of it…she always looked angry as a kid._

"_Get down here, you pig!" Quistis shouted. _

"_Make me!" Seifer challenged her. _

_A twig immediately came flying up the tree. She missed him by hair's length. Another twig followed, he ducked and didn't get hit, although his sudden movement caused him to lose balance and sent him falling off the tree in a painful thud. _

_Quistis immediately ran to the boy with her hands rolled into fists, ready for a fight. Seifer watched as the two tykes rolled all over the sand, fighting. It didn't matter if she was a girl and he was a boy, kid fights know no gender. And Quistis was no ordinary girl, she could fight like a boy. She could easily defeat Zell in arm wrestling. Seifer always knew she could put up a good fight. _

'_Some things never change…'_

_He was already enjoying the show when Quistis got the upper hand and was able to pin the young boy on the ground. 'I was a lousy kid, I can't believe this…I lost to Quistis? This can't be real…'_

_She raised her fist and it was about to descend painfully on his face when rain started to pour. She stopped. Seifer heard the other kids scream and scamper towards the house. Little Seifer and little Quisty was left. _

"_Get off of me!" Little Seifer shouted._

_She didn't seem to have heard. She was busy relishing her victory, pinning her adversary on the ground. Lightning came and thunder roared, Seifer looked up at the sky. It was dark and he thought of getting inside the house too and taking a sip of the delicious soup he was sure Matron had cooked for them. He knew little Seifer also had that in mind. Waking up is another option…_

'_What's wrong with these kids, why aren't they…'_

_He couldn't fathom what caused it or what the little girl had in mind at that time, but when he looked at the spot where the two little kids were, he saw the young girl leaning forward towards the boy. Little Seifer didn't seem to protest. Quisty was leaning closer and closer…_

_Her lips brushed with his. _

'_What the…'_

_He thought hard if it was a flashback or if it was just his creative imagination at work. Did this really happen? If it did, how could he have forgotten that she had the hots for him, even when they were kids? Surely, he would have had the time of his life tormenting her with such information. He should be doing a victory dance right now. _

_He never got to do the victory dance though, or even the victory smirk. He was just too weirded out that he froze where he stood. It was a scene that will probably never happen again in ten lifetimes and it was unfolding before his eyes._

"_Quisty?" Both Seifer and the little one said at the same time._

The sound of wood hitting metal woke him up. He sat up to see a jail guard pounding his baton on the metal rails of his cell. "Wake up, sleepy ass…you've got work to do." The guard left after waking him up.

He remained still and thinking for a long time. _Quistis…even my dreams... _He shook his head disapprovingly.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Please do click the leave a review button. I would greatly appreciate it. 

I have edited the name Anthony. I always tend to put Anthony instead of William. Hmm, strange...

Please do leave a review! THANKS!


End file.
